


Wolves

by leafsnation



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Clem & Jane Route, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Season 4, Family, Friendship, Gen, Survival Horror, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 110,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafsnation/pseuds/leafsnation
Summary: Jane, a lone survivor in an unforgiving world, arrives at Howe's just as a herd rips through the community. Finding a young girl inside, she reluctantly allows the child to travel with her. And although Jane distances herself from the kid, figuring she'd just be another tragedy waiting to happen, Clementine's got a few demons of her own.





	1. Maelstrom

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I've been on Fanfiction.net for quite a few years now and just recently decided to display this story over here as well, so if things look a little off for some reason, let me know and I'll do my best to correct it.
> 
> Anyways, all feedback is greatly appreciated, and I hope you guys enjoy!

_Clunk!_

The walker fell down in a heap, landing on the grass and face-planting onto a cracked kerbstone that signaled the start of the parking lot as its jaw cracked upon impact. Bits of dark, oozing blood and gore splattered beside the monster's head, and another one of its buddies slowly turned around to see what the noise was. Surprising, really, given the state of the place. This store was looking more like another dead end than the potential safe house I was hoping it would be. Walkers were literally _everywhere._

Making sure to have a firm grip on the blade handle, I let the other lurker trip over the downed one before plunging my knife into the back of his skull, too. These things really weren't difficult to get around, if you knew what you were doing, at least. Walk like them, act like them, cover yourself with their innards… relatively stable of a plan, surely. They were nothing if not predictable.

People, though? _Tch,_ yeah, completely different ballgame right there. How I'd been dealing with people these days is about the same as what I did whenever I had to go to the dentist as a kid – avoided it like the plague. Groups were nothing but trouble. You were pretty much asking for shit to turn upside down, with no real hope of reprieve except for watching as they all got cut down, one after another.

But I was pretty much out of options this week. Rationing could only take you so far, and I had used up the last pouch of dried beets that I'd picked up from that trailer a few dozen miles down the road. It was hardly the most satisfying thing in there, but when my stomach started roaring in protest, I figured enough was enough. Time for a new plan. A _better one,_ hopefully.

Straddled in the middle of the lot was a station for parking your shopping carts, and some of the walkers had found the clanging of their wheels interesting enough to keep them occupied. The majority of them were moving towards the hardware store though - a big paint job on the side of the building reading "Howe's Hardware" in bold, faded-out letters. I was hoping for a better scenario than an ocean of the undead when I arrived, but honestly, I think I'd prefer this than to be rolled out a welcome mat by whoever was unfortunate enough to still be inside. I had no idea who was running the place, but based on past experiences I wasn't really giving out any high expectations. Kind of the standard for people I didn't know, come to think of it.

Resolve deteriorating with nearly every step, I paused for a moment as I considered whether or not this is even worth investigating. I mean, it was just a building. It wasn't even a fun-looking building. Howe's Hardware wasn't really inspiring much confidence that it would somehow be a goldmine, and despite the fortifications that somebody had clearly made to the exterior walls, I wasn't so sure that they would hold these guys back for long.

Unfortunately, though, I was in a pretty tight spot, and hunger could make a person do almost anything. I wasn't going to survive much longer without some grub, and really, that was mostly all it was about anymore – surviving. For what? I didn't quite know. Maybe it was self-pragmatism, maybe it was some desperate and foolish hope that something better would finally come along. Maybe it was even cowardice, or selfishness.

But, for better or worse, maybe it was more about upholding a silent promise that I made to a sibling of mine, what seemed like a lifetime ago. If she was still here, with me right now… if Jaime could only…

 _Shut up,_ I scolded myself, biting my tongue and marching forward, feeling an icy chill wash over me as I ventured through the herd. _She's not here anymore. Get over it. How can you possibly expect to survive if you're constantly beating yourself up all the time?_

Breathing through my nose, I slowly walked past a walker with both of its limbs torn off and internally grinned. Jackpot – that ladder up to the rooftops would do the trick. It's a good thing the walkers were too stupid to capitalize on this. Climbing wasn't one of their strong suits.

Hearing nothing but the moans and bloodied gargles surrounding me, I trudged my way towards the ladder and grabbed onto the first rung. I was pointedly aware that my cover would likely be blown if the walkers saw me climb upwards, so I took one careful look over my shoulder before making my ascent.

As strange as it might've sounded, I was feeling a rush of adrenaline right there on that ladder. My heartbeat soared, my eyes were wide but determined, and my mouth ran dry as I found myself lost against a backdrop of the undead. There was a sort of thrill to doing this sort of thing day in and day out, where you know that your life was on the line and that one false step could send me plummeting to a fate worse than death. The ladder would only have to snap, to fall backwards for a split second, for me to end up getting eaten alive. I could even feel the metallic surface shake under my palms as a few of the walkers tried to snap at my legs.

I thrived in these sorts of "heat of the moment" things. I'd gotten pretty good at it, even going so far as to say that, when push came to shove, I'd be able to overcome the odds and find a way to live. Slowly over time, I wasn't sure exactly when, I had made this backwards, upside down world my home. I made it my bitch.

As I finally reached the rooftops, knife drawn and at the ready as I stood to my feet, I scanned the area for any signs of life. Empty bullet casings littered the granule-covered roof a few feet away, but whoever fired them had obviously ran off or died some time ago. There weren't any automatic weapons around, not that I had really suspected to find any, but there was some sort of crowbar-looking thing slammed into the door handle leading downstairs. "Shit…" I hissed, trying my hand at opening it but quickly realizing that the path was blocked off. The blood and gore freshly stained onto the sharp end was disturbing enough, but I was in a bit of a predicament. If I couldn't use the stairs, how the hell was I supposed to move around this place?

Heading out towards the ledge, I stopped short as I came upon a large, glass-windowed building with the door having been hastily patched together with wood and nails. At first glance it didn't really seem like anything special, but as I pressed my nose up against the panels, having to squint through all the dirt and grime coming down my forehead, I caught a glimpse of the most satiating thing I had seen in weeks. Half-picked blueberry plants on the table, tomatoes and eggplants in the corner… this place was a fucking greenhouse! If I could get in there, I'd be set up comfortably for quite some time. The thought of eating something other than raw meat for a change was making my mouth water. _Mmm…_ fresh fruit and vegetables…

When I found that the thing was locked – because _of course_ it was – I took out my knife and jammed the blade into the slit. Shimmying it around a bit, I winced when I accidentally cut my finger open a tad, but the end result was more than worth it. The smell inside was unbelievable as I nearly dove onto the plant, and I licked my lips hungrily as I got to work putting them into a potato sack that was sitting idly in the corner nearby. It wasn't feasible or practical to take everything with the excess weight and all, but I thought to myself, as I stuffed a few blueberries into my mouth and reveled in their delicious taste, that if nobody was willing to come back for these with the walkers and all, I may as well make a few trips. With how profitable this trip had been so far, I was willing to go another few nights camped out underneath a pine, gazing at the stars and bearing the cold.

The makeshift bag itched against the back of my neck as I threw my collection of treasures over my shoulder. This would do nicely. I wouldn't go another night hungry, which eased my mind a little bit as I stepped back outside and let the door hang ajar behind me. I couldn't close the thing with how much I had shredded the lock, which made me a little anxious that the rest of it would be gone by the time I got back, but, brushing those thoughts aside, I pondered on whether or not to just call it a victory for the night and head back to my makeshift campsite a few miles away. I traveled light and didn't start too many large fires to pull attention to myself, but I had managed to pilfer away a ripped sleeping bag from an abandoned house, and it sure as hell was better than sleeping with the pine needles poking my sides all night long.

Getting out was going to be a challenge, though. Those walkers still hadn't left the bottom of the ladder yet, and only seemed to get more riled up as I poked my head over to sneak a peek. But, with no other visible options about, and no clear indication as to whether this herd would get bored and scatter to the wind, I bit my lip and took a deep breath. _Alright, you can do this,_ I mentally prepared myself, drumming my fingers along my pant leg as I cringed at the lack of walker guts left on me. _Just gotta play it cool, 'kay? You know what to do. Just take it nice and slow, no sudden moves. Play the part, stick to the script._

That would be easier said than done, it looked like. On the ground, I was just a part of the herd. But climbing down like this would no doubt send them into a frenzy that I had no shot in hell of making it out of. So that was pretty much out of the question. Jumping wouldn't cut it, not with how high I was up here, not to mention the massive contusions I'd receive from the barbed wire junk fence surrounding parts of the hardware store.

Well, shit. What I wouldn't have given to just sprout a pair of wings out of my back right then and there. Would've made me look like an idiot and all, but hey, maybe it could've –

_"Fuck! Hank, I'm outta bullets here! How much stuff do you need?"_

_"Enough to get by – just need to pick up the essentials… goddamit, where'd Bill put those pills? I swear they were here just the other day…"_

_"We don't have time! Everyone else is gone, dude! Shel, is Becca still with you?"_

Quickly darting to the side of the greenhouse to avoid detection, I held my breath as a man in a forest green jacket, glasses, long, blonde hair and a shaggy goatee stepped over to the side where I had been but moments ago. Shit… I thought for sure there wasn't anyone here. So much for that plan.

But, I thought to myself as another person, a woman with short hair and a turquoise sweater, popped her head up through the skylight leading into some sort of office, this could also be my chance. With all the noise these morons were making, the walkers might not notice me as much if I were to follow in afterwards. Let's face it – this place was about to be overrun in a hurry. I didn't know how quickly it would happen, but a hostile takeover was almost indefinite.

"She's in the holding bay with Tavia and Russ! Where's Bill?" Shel asked, occasionally darting her head back towards the office as I stole a glance to the other side of the roof. Hmm… if this skylight could be opened that way, then maybe… "We were supposed to meet up by the trucks!"

"You really care what happens to that guy _now?_ Did you not see what he did to them? I could hear the screams from down the hall!"

With a hop, skip and a jump, I tuned out the rest of their conversation as I tiptoed over towards the other roof access. With all the commotion going on out here I doubt they'd have heard me anyways, but I wasn't willing to take any chances. I'd already done so far more tonight than I was normally comfortable with, and with enough time, my luck would inevitably run dry. And I wanted to hold out for as long as I could.

Grateful that I hadn't yet cut my nails this month, I dug my fingers underneath the lid of the skylight and yanked upwards. With a _click_ , the hatch opened as I jumped down on a pile of boxes sitting atop a mountain of shelves and supplies. Holy shit – this place was like a goddamn candy store, and right now I was Willy fucking Wonka. I had no idea why these people wouldn't just try to ride out the storm and defend the place, as they likely weren't going to be able to find something like this anytime soon. Everything was just so… _orderly,_ in here. Nothing seemed to be out of place, with various crates and boxes displaying different labels like _FOOD_ and _AMMUNITION_ in big, bold sharpie. Somebody with a steady hand had been working on some sort of project out in the middle of the floor, with what appeared to be some sort of generator with wires connecting it to the garage door nearby.

And with wires comes electricity – real, working, electricity. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen something powered up like that. Weeks? Months, maybe? What seemed like a distant privilege was now within my grasp, but like the most ironic of ironies, I wouldn't be able to stay long enough to enjoy it.

Still, there wasn't much harm in having a bit of a look around. The walkers didn't seem to be able to get inside this place yet.

Shimmying my way across the shelves and nearly tripping on one of the larger supply crates, I finally managed to drop to the floor and dust myself off. Blood and guts had started matting my hair and staining my jacket, not to mention how nasty I was starting to smell, but I wasn't put off by it as I tried my best to pry open an ammunition box. After walking through enough herds, you eventually learned to forgo such luxuries as personal hygiene when it came to these things. Besides, it wasn't as if I was looking for any hot dates these days…

Snorting lightly at that, I struggled to remember the last time I had actually done that sort of thing. The details had gotten sort of blurry – which should tell you how impressive the night was – but I could recall bits and pieces. It so wasn't my idea to go out on the stupid date, but a certain little sister of mine had insisted. _You need to get some action,_ she had told me as I gaped at her for going that far. _C'mon, Jane. You look so lonely all the time, and your super depressing mood is screwing with my head. How am I supposed to enjoy myself when you look so miserable all the time?_

_Gee, nice to see you care…_

_You'll like him, I promise! He's not like that dork you went out with in eleventh grade. Err… what was his name again? Greg? Dylan?_

_Derek! And he wasn't_ that _much of a dork._

_Dude, he showed up to our house in a bow tie and overalls. Like, on purpose. That's not cool, it's lame._

_I'm not going on a blind date, Jaime! This is the dumbest thing I've ever heard! Call him back and tell him… gah… I dunno, make something up! You're good at that._

After another ten minutes of pestering, eventually having to resort to physically picking Jaime up by the waist and tossing her on the couch to keep her from barging into the bedroom of my apartment, I conceded. Lo and behold, the date ended up being a complete waste of time, just as I said it would, and it ended with me leaving the dinky shithole of a dance club we went to and never talking to the guy ever again. Frankly, I was pretty sure the guy would've had trouble remembering that I was even there in the first place with how many tequila shots he had downed in the span of like half an hour, but I at least had the decency to help the guy to a bar stool after standing and watching him puke his guts out over the toilet seat. The few other guys in the washroom paid it no heed, but simply nodded my way sympathetically before going about their business.

I closed my eyes for a moment or two to calm my breathing down a tad. Thinking about shit like this always hurt, more so now that she was gone. Losing her was what drove me over the edge, I think. If she could've just… If I could've just been a little bit stronger…

A set of three radios sat in their charging stations as I moved further inside. For a reason that I wasn't quite sure of, I inspected the plastic devices before putting two of them into the rucksack and switching them off to sustain the battery. It was a stupid thought, as I had started making a habit of keeping as far away from groups as possible, but for some reason it was a comfort to bring them along.

It was probably nothing… yeah, probably.

This was eerie as hell, though. Much of the store was an empty shell as I wandered into the next few halls alone to my thoughts, and with the herd of walkers outside enclosing the parking lot, I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. Nothing serious, but hearing their groans echoing off the high ceiling above my head did nothing to bring comfort to this chilly night. All it would take is for one to break in, and then the flood would quickly follow.

I was sure there were still a few rooms that I hadn't checked yet, and I wasn't too keen on heading out to the little courtyard-looking area they had outside as I passed by one of the pull-down gates. What had most likely been for gardening supplies before the outbreak had been converted into some kind of sleeping area, coming with its own fire pit, lawn chairs, picnic table as well as some real crappy-looking beds made of plywood. Nothing about it seemed friendly, and if the barbed wire at the top of the fence was any indication, I'd say this place was used as more of a holding cell than a guest penthouse suite. These guys must've had some pretty shady characters lurking about… I couldn't help but wonder what you'd have to do in order to get thrown into there. Nothing good I'd imagine.

With the next couple of rooms not really holding anything promising that I could actually access, I figured that I might as well double back towards the set of stairs that I had seen earlier. Those people I saw earlier had already left, and after seeing the same girl – Shel, I think her name was? – bolting down the steps two at a time, I figured that they lead up to that office I spotted before. I'd say that coming here was decently worth it with the haul I managed to snag. _Tch,_ a bag full of food, bullets and a couple radios was probably the best I could hope for these days, but to get them all at once was pretty satisfying. And if the need arose, Howe's would be getting another surprise visit from me in the coming weeks.

But I couldn't keep living like a nomad forever. Wandering from place to place was, whether I liked to admit it or not, taking its toll on me. I'd become restless lately, a trait that I soon discovered was making me slightly more paranoid than usual. I'd flinch at even the tiniest of noises, turning around with my knife unsheathed only to find a bird nesting high up on a tree branch. Camping was proving to be more dangerous around here, too. In Ohio it wasn't as much of a problem, since the few scavengers I encountered mostly wanted nothing to do with me. But over here, although I hadn't come face to face with any yet, these guys seemed to be a bit out of their nutter. A trio of them were tearing apart some tents like a pack of wild animals, and I shuddered as I thought of the other group I saw, with the terrified screams of their victims, a family of four, chilling my body as I fled into the night. I didn't even _want_ to know what they must've done to those people.

There had to be a place out there somewhere that wasn't completely indefensible. Howe's was way too big for a one person job, but something like a mobile home or a nice, little cottage? Heck yeah, I could get behind that. Nothing but me chilling and kicking out the rest of my days laid back on a wrap-around porch, sprawled out on the shoreline of a beach in which I could see a mile in every direction. The sun would glaze over my face as I would bask in the warm glow, and no amount of walkers would be there to ruin my years-long holiday.

 _…sigh._ Not that that'd ever happen. A girl could dream though, couldn't she? Not to mention that I was literally _nowhere near_ a solid coastline, and that nearly every place I stumbled upon was either in too much disrepair, occupied by someone else, or had no reliable access to the things I needed to keep my brain functioning and my heart beating. Besides, letting my head get stuck in the clouds like that wasn't really my thing.

As I started to get the sense that the walkers might've suspected somebody was in here, hearing their flailing limbs beating mindlessly on one of the doors, I counted my blessings and started heading towards the office stairs. This was usually how it went. I never stayed in a potential scavenging site for too long, and didn't take enough to slow me down too much for travelling. Itching at the dried blood caking my cheek, I tried picturing my escape plan in my head. There must've been some sort of emergency exit around here, but the one shitty part about this place having power was the potential noise. Opening up one of those doors might've sent out a warning call to every single thing out there, living or dead. It might as well have said, "Hey everybody! Guess who your next five-course meal is! This gal, right here!" Nobody could tell me that I lacked imagination.

_Fwip! Plunk! Fwwwwiiiippp!_

Knife drawn and at the ready almost instantly, I turned into the direction of the noises and narrowed my gaze into a deep frown. I had a feeling that this wasn't going to be a walk in the park, although for a while there my hopes were high. The sound was coming from one of the doors I hadn't yet explored yet, thinking that a room labelled "GARBAGE DISPOSAL" wasn't really high on the list of goody-finding. I'm not quite sure what compelled me to follow it as I slowly placed my hand against the door frame. It might've just been an incessant need to make sure that nobody would get the jump on me if push came to shove, but if nothing else, the garbage room might've provided a better alternative than trying to jump off the roof into… whatever it was that wanted to break my fall tonight. The ladder still wasn't seeming like a good idea. They had to have a trash chute here, right?

Nothing heard me enter as I slowly popped my head in from the side, but what I found within nearly made me slam the door and sprint out immediately. What looked to be a little girl was bent over a corpse, digging into its innards and lifting various organs into her hands. I didn't need to be a genius to see where this was going, but seeing the little girl, covered from head to toe in splotches of red covering her purple, long-sleeved shirt made me sick to my stomach. God damn it… I thought I'd be used to this shit by now. Dead people moving around was just a formality these days. But seeing this kid, with a blue and white ball cap sitting atop her head and completely oblivious as I forced myself to look away for a moment, I couldn't stop throwing up in my mouth. Fuck… this was hitting a little too close to home…

I… I couldn't save her… Jaim- god, even saying the name right then was next to impossible…

No matter what I did, it wasn't enough. I couldn't bring her back... back from the brink. Back from that shitty, dark hole she had dug herself into.

I didn't know this girl… but maybe… just maybe... if I could help her along, end this nightmare for her… fuck, I didn't even know…

Fleeing was my very first instinct, but I hissed through my teeth and forced myself to sneak up behind her. This wouldn't take long. One solid gouge to the head would do it, and my deed of the day would be done. I'd fulfill my quota of "nice" for the week. Well, if you counted stabbing a walker as a real  _generous_ thing to do…

But as I inched closer and closer towards the walker, I grew more confused. The thing had the guts in its hands as it dug through its latest victim, but the creature wasn't eating anything yet. I didn't see any of the telltale signs that usually followed these things like glue – the gargling, for one, was nowhere to be heard, and the thing's skin was oddly normal-looking.

Figuring that I was just losing my edge, I took a few more steps forward until I was standing a couple feet behind her. Lifting the knife to shoulder level, I threw my arm back, looked at my target, and –

Her head turned around then, and my eyes widened into saucers. I froze, stiffened as my hand lingered in the air. Although almost her entire face was covered in blood, I could tell that she was alive by the way she looked at me, too. By her shocked expression I guessed that I had caught her off guard, and as I slowly lowered my arm to my side (though still not putting the blade away), the girl stumbled back and tripped over the walker she was tending to.

More like the one she _butchered,_ I noticed, as I glanced at the way she had carved through the dead guy right through its sternum; a small hatchet still buried in the end with a piece of the handle bloodied from her endeavor.

Jesus. I wasn't expecting to see this, and from a _kid_ no less? She couldn't have been even fifteen years old, and yet she was doing the same technique I had used on a regular basis.

Not bad. Needed a little work, and her form needed to be a little cleaner, but give it enough time and…

 _Whoa._ Uh, how about no? Not happening.

I didn't really know what to say as I finally gave in and put the knife back into its sheath, so instead of making an intro, I frowned, sighed, and plunged my hands into the carved walker. Feeling the gooey substance in between my fingers was never something I really enjoyed doing, but time was precious and I needed to move on. No doubt I was making a terrible first impression right here.

Gaping at me, the girl quickly snatched her hatchet away and kept it close to her chest. I wasn't sure if she thought I was gonna steal it from her or something, but whatever. That didn't matter. I wasn't staying, and I didn't have time to answer a billion questions from some snot-nosed punk anyways.

My cold indifference had blanketed over my initial shock, and the last thing I wanted was for this to start turning into a thing. Drama was the very last thing on my mind.

However, as I got to work, spreading the walker guts as if it were sun-tan lotion, I made the mistake of glancing at the girl again. She hadn't yet run away like I had expected her to, but she wasn't saying anything, either. The kid tilted her head to the side like a lost, little puppy, but I couldn't really tell what she wanted. I couldn't read her body language, and her eyes were giving me nothing, and as I quickly darted my head back to the task at hand, I cleared my throat and stood back up. The awkwardness was pouring down in waves as she too rose up to join me.

"…you're not seriously…?" I stuttered, cringing as my voice cracked after having nobody to talk to for like six to seven months straight. This was ridiculous. "Ugh," I huffed with a frown, not wanting the extra baggage tagging along, "go on back to your crew already. Those people who were here before – you were with them, right? I'm sure they're still out looking for you… _somewhere._ "

Seemingly choking up at that idea, she turned away from me and shook her head; clutching her hatchet even tighter as I rolled my eyes. I didn't have time for her childish behaviour, so I muttered a profanity under my breath and turned to go back to where I was heading before. This garbage room was a dead end anyways. Nothing here except for an old dumpster filled to the brim with cardboard and broken pieces of plastic.

I got about halfway up the stairs when I felt a smaller hand grab onto my wrist.

"The hell are you doing?" I hissed, snatching my arm away and turning around to face her again. A cat still had her tongue apparently, as she wouldn't speak or make any real indication as to whether she could fully understand what I was telling her, but she seemed pretty adamant on me not going that way. "Just leave me alone, would ya? What's your deal?" I demanded, taking a couple more steps forward as, yet again, she bumped into me.

 _Annoying little shit_ would be putting it mildly. This girl was pissing me off. Never before had I been so certain of my decision to forgo the whole "group survival thing" and trek out on my own than I was in this moment, but as much as I wanted to just shove her out of the way and finally – fucking _finally_ – leave this place behind, I stopped myself when she beckoned for me to follow her along. It was a sad, wimpy motion, one that made me think there might've been more going on here than what she was letting on, but I was still wary. I did not trust this girl, not through any real fault of her own, but mostly by force of habit.

Deciding to play along just to see if it would get her off my back, I stepped into her shadow and trailed behind. She led us over to a garage door, impaled by a massive dent in the middle that I could only guess was from a car of some sort, and sniffled sadly before pressing the button to open the door. It got jammed halfway up from the dent, but it was more than enough room for us to crawl underneath.

So… that herd of walkers? It seemed that they had all invited their friends to the party. A bunch of them had finally found a way to bust through a part of the fence, mostly just by having a large group of them leaning on top of it until it finally gave out under the combined weight. This easily had to be the biggest clusterfuck I had ever seen, but if the girl was feeling afraid, she didn't really show it. A perpetual depression had latched onto her face, it looked like, and although it was difficult to tell with all the crap she had on her, I could tell that she had been crying at some point. Hopefully her tears wouldn't wash her camouflage away.

I don't know exactly what it was that caused me to relent, but after biting my lip for a couple of seconds and mulling it over, I internally groaned and nudged her in the shoulder. "Stay close," I tell her, watching her shiver a little as a handful of walkers brush past us. "Don't make any noise to draw their attention. If you fall behind, I can't come back for you."

That warning seemed to frighten her a little bit as she widened her eyes, but after a moment's realization, she gulped and nodded her head. A pair of steely, golden eyes stared back at me with the will to get through this; to survive. She may have had the body of a little girl, but something about the way she was going at this, I was starting to think…

Hmph. Well, we'd have to make it out of here first to be sure about that. Pulling this kind of shit was a huge risk. I had no idea of who she was or how she would react to something like this, but if she so much as made even a little bit of a fuss while we were out here, there'd be hell to pay.

"And for crying out loud, _walk,_ " I added sarcastically, starting my trek through the parking lot as the girl followed behind. "Act like you belong, and you _will_ belong."

Something told me that I wouldn't have to remind her of that.


	2. Hesitance

"Why are you still following me?"

The question left my mouth before I could reel it back in, being the first words spoken between us for nearly three hours. Clearly, the girl hadn't noticed up until then, because with a little jolt she looked up at me, the brim of her blue and white ball cap shielding the top of her eyes as I glanced (more like glared) over my shoulder. I didn't think she'd gotten the memo that this was not, definitely not, going to be a long-term arrangement. We weren't friends, we weren't even acquaintances. I honestly didn't even know why I bothered helping her get through that herd. Evidently, from how she was dissecting that walker back in that room, she could handle herself decently enough anyways.

We could've gone our separate ways the second that we were in the clear. And honestly, I was getting a little annoyed. I didn't want to be anchored down to some random kid that I happened to bump into on a limb.

Saying nothing, the girl shrugged her shoulders and turned her head to the side, continuing to trail behind at a comfortable distance as I rolled my eyes and sighed irritably. What was her deal? Christ, was the girl deaf or something? Were her vocal chords not working? Here I was thinking that _I_ didn't talk a whole lot, and then along comes Little Miss Sunshine over here to snatch my title out from under me.

Seriously, why couldn't she just… just… I don't know. Go away, maybe?

Silence was one thing that I was more than used to on a daily basis, but this one sucked. It sucked ass. It was the awkward, heavy burden silence that I used to loathe whenever I'd have to get picked up from some dingy bar downtown by my parents and spend the entire car ride silently begging for them not to ask any questions about what I'd been doing that night. It was uneasy and uncomfortable, and I wanted it to stop.

Once the irritation started to set in, it would be nearly impossible to remove it from my system. This couldn't continue. The kid had to go one way or another, as I definitely wasn't in the mood for babysitting and, in case it wasn't obvious enough already, I worked better alone. At least on paper, that is. Maybe I did have a bit of an itch to scratch in the people department, and had grown kind of bitter over the past few months over the things that were going wrong; with the things I had seen and been through.

But I wasn't ready for a travelling companion, that much I knew for sure. And so, as I spotted the tree line that lead to my makeshift campsite just a little ways away, I finally got the nerve to turn around again and fully face her for the first time since Howe's. "Let me make this perfectly clear," I started coldly, forcing my abrasive attitude to overpower my weird desire to swap stories with the girl, "I don't need you wandering behind me like this, okay? I don't know what you think this is," I pointed between the two of us, "but it's not a partnership. I'm not out here to give you any handouts. So… uh, yeah. Are you… do you get that?"

I had started to trail off for a second at the end there as I noticed it. The kid had covered it up pretty well with her long-sleeved shirt, but I could spot the markings of some kind of branding near her collarbone. It was a deep, deep red marking that looked like it had just started to scab over, but boy, did it ever look painful.

Noticing where my eyes were lingering, the girl instantly tensed up and pulled her collar even higher, trying her best to draw attention away from it but failing horribly. There were so many questions buzzing around in my head now, most of them revolving around what the hell happened back at Howe's with everything, but I bit my tongue and looked over her shoulder to see a walker stumbling towards us.

"Great," I mumbled sarcastically, getting my hunting knife ready again as I marched around her. "Gimme a sec, ok? Just… head up that hill over there. I'll meet you up top."

"…okay."

Shocked that words had actually just come out of her mouth, I shoved the walker into a bush as it toppled onto its back and got caught in some of the branches. "So… you're not mute, then?" I quizzically asked, frowning a little as she shook her head. "Well then… all that back there… _Gah,_ why didn't you say anything?!"

"I just…" she trailed off, "didn't feel like it."

Unable to believe the nerve of this kid, I tucked my frustration away and instead turned that energy into dealing with the walker I had neglected. This was definitely not going to work out. I could already tell that she'd started to develop some of that infamous teenage snark that, although I too had a reputation for back in the day, now I had absolutely no patience to wade through.

Before I could finish the dude off, though, I was interrupted by that same voice.

"Wait!" she cried out, stepping up beside me as she frowned at the walker. "Let… let me do it," she insisted with that stoic look she'd been garnering for the past few hours. "Please?"

Honestly, I wasn't sure if I'd recently been knocked over the head and hadn't even noticed that my brain had gotten scrambled inside of my skull. Was everything going backwards or something?

"Wh-wha-?"

"Just…" she cut off with a grunt, pulling out her hatchet and shimmying in between a pair of trees to get to the other side of the bush. Watching her go about as she faced her target, lined up the swing and swiftly brought it down brought me to a stark realization. None of this was new to the girl. She'd done this before, and she knew the basics of how to keep on going out here. I imagined that she wasn't just some scared, little kid with no potential to make it – with the right amount of coaching, she could turn into something more.

So many thoughts today… I struggled for a while as my head battled itself over what my eyes were trying to tell me, and, albeit slowly, maybe I was starting to come around. She didn't look like the vicious sort, despite evidence to the contrary as she moved the hatchet back and forth to try and dislodge it from the walker's skull.

But she definitely had the look – one who had seen too much, been traumatized over the last couple of years and had just barely climbed out the other side. That's usually the one that would stare back at me in a reflection from the water or a shattered mirror. I couldn't remember ever seeing a kid acting like this, and it was kind of a scary thought. If she could handle this shit now, just imagine what it might be like when she got older.

 _If,_ she got older, that is.

When the hatchet was successfully removed, with the girl huffing and puffing as she sheepishly looked back over towards me, I breathed deeply through my nose and nudged back towards the hill. "C'mon, then," I ushered, starting back towards the campsite as a flock of crows soared overhead.

Yep. I called it. What a weird day it'd been so far.

* * *

"Home sweet home," I muttered sarcastically, placing the bag down and rummaging through the collection as the girl looked around. It didn't take her long to do, seeing's how my "campsite" consisted of only a little nest-looking thing I had created out of random pieces of grass, weeds and soft-covered sticks to use as a makeshift pillow. I used to own a tent that was only big enough for a child to fully fit in, but the thing had been pretty ratty and ripped even before I had picked it up, and with all the hassle of having to fold it back up for travelling and then unfolding it when I settled down, I figured I'd just leave it for the next person to use.

That was it. Literally. I had started digging in the dirt a little bit to try and turn the plot of land into a bunker of sorts, but I hadn't gotten around to finishing it yet. The rest was literally just nature taking its course. Rainwater would occasionally collect in a puddle on the side of the road, but thankfully there was a creek a little ways away so that I didn't have to resort to drinking dirt half the time. I'd wake up with the sun dawning through the tree line, go out scavenging for about an hour or two, grab what I could carry with me, and then head back with my haul. I'd learned to treat squirrels as a delicacy a long time ago, but the occasional buck would come alongside the creek to grab a sip, as long as it managed to avoid the walkers.

One day stood out in particular where I had waited almost six hours for a deer – legs cramped to shit, stomach growling so loudly I was surprised half of the state couldn't tell where I was. I was limited to the weapons I could use, not having any sort of hunting rifle to claim as my own, but a pistol was usually all I needed. I couldn't tell you how pissed I was when the prized doe had scattered away after I shot it in the neck, but thankfully the blood loss had kicked in pretty quickly after striking that blow, and my catch now stood half-skinned in a little cubby-hole I had dug out for it earlier with my own two hands.

Well, it _was_ anyways, because apparently something had been around here recently and spoiled my hard-earned meal. All that was left now was bloody bits of fur and a rib cage with only little nibbles of fat left sticking off the bone. Fucking walkers! They ruined everything they touched!

"This should do for now…" I mentioned, more so to myself than to the girl standing nearby. I turned my head over my shoulder and figured that she'd at least want a piece of the action. "You hungry?" I questioned, holding a couple of the vegetables out towards her as she started eyeing it cautiously. Her gaze kept going back and forth between the food and me, and for a while I couldn't understand what the problem was. Was she not hungry right then, or…?

And once it clicked, I literally looked over as if she had lost her damn mind.

"Are you kidding me…?" I cut myself off, grunting bitterly as she lowered her eyes to the ground. "What kind of monster do you think I am? I literally just yanked these out of the bag! Do you seriously think I'd try to _poison_ you?!"

It actually kind of hurt to realize that she'd think that way about me, even though technically she was still a complete stranger. Admittedly, our first encounter hadn't been the best, and she looked as though she'd been recently put through ten different kinds of hell in a matter of hours, and even though it was probably smart of her not to trust me at first glance, I was still a little miffed.

Giving up on the whole prospect altogether, I dropped the bag to the side and shrugged my shoulders. "Suit yourself, then. Starve, for all I care," I muttered before unzipping my coat and placing it gingerly on the hay pile beside me; not wanting to get it mucked up as I reached into the cubby hole. Dammit… they really messed my dinner up something fierce, couldn't even leave the scraps behind for me to chew on every now and again. What I wouldn't have given for some good, old-fashioned chicken right then… I used to make the most amazing grilled chicken sandwiches with lettuce, tomato, ceasar dressing and shredded cheese. A minute or two in the microwave afterwards, and the thing would end up just melting in your mouth.

But this wasn't just about the food. If the walkers could scope out a dead carcass hidden away like this so easily, then I for sure was easy pickings out here. This place was no longer safe, even with the awesome vantage point and access to the dirt road so close by. Shit – I really wasn't in the mood to travel again, not without a little bit of rest first.

Jolting my hand back as some kind of… I dunno, a mole or a raccoon or something… hissed at me from its hiding spot in behind the deer, I fell back and let my hands fall lazily into my lap. This had really deflated my tires today. The motivation had leaked out and was steadily running dry as the animal scurried back into the hole. Great. I didn't realize that the place was already occupied before I arrived here. Now I was just a total squatter.

Perking my ears up a bit as I heard a light ruffling sound coming from behind me, I turned towards the girl and raised my eyebrow. Huh. Looks as though she couldn't stay staring at the grub for long, not with how much her stomach was grumbling over there. With the brim of her hat covering most of her eyes, I was only able to watch as she cleared her throat and silently asked if she could have some.

Weird kid. I'd already given her permission a little while ago, but she still wouldn't dig her hand into the bag. She probably thought her arm would come off if she even dared to try helping herself…

Brushing any witty comebacks aside for the sake of not making this situation any more awkward than it needed to be, I handed her a couple of the vegetables as she abruptly sat down and started devouring the food as if it was her last meal on earth. I couldn't help but wonder just how long she'd gone without a proper meal… _proper_ being a relative term, these days.

By the time she had finished, wiping some of the residue off her face with the back of her sleeve, the girl darted her gaze towards the tree line to avoid making eye contact. "…thank you…" she mumbled graciously, a slight blush of embarrassment adorning her cheeks as I looked at her quizzically.

Yep. Weird kid, definitely.

Originally, I really hadn't planned on getting to know her. I mean, what would the point have been, right? She'd just get injured or killed in a million different ways like everyone else, and we would've missed out on the _wonderful, chatty and thoroughly invigorating_ discussion we'd been having ever since we escaped from Howe's.

But the more that I looked at her, the more curious I became. I didn't think I'd meet anybody who was less talkative than me, and for whatever reason, this girl was starting to become the locus of my attention. The timid way she presented herself, the way she'd constantly be looking over her shoulder to check if anybody was following us, the way she'd scrunch up her face into a scowl whenever we encountered any walkers… This just _screamed_ mysterious. And I wanted to crack the enigma somehow.

She wouldn't sit down even when I sat across from her against the food bag, hoping to god that I didn't squish any of the fruit inside as I laid my legs out flat against the dirt. " _Soooo…_ " I drawled out, emphasizing the "o" as it rolled off my tongue. Pondering what my first question would be, I drummed my fingers upon my thigh. Better start with the basics, I guess. "You got a name there, kid?" I asked as she studied the ground with interest. I tried to tilt my head to see what all the hesitation was about with her, and opened my mouth again as I was about to go further, but she suddenly beat me to it.

"Cle-" she stuttered, making some weird clicking noise in her throat as she tried again. "Clementine…"

Clementine. Hmm. The name rolled around in my mouth a few times as I played a little pattern game in my head to remember it. I used to do this sort of thing when I was about her age, always having thought it important to remember the few people who would actually try to talk to me back at school. The assholes were usually the ones whose names I had purposely forgotten, and believe me, there were a _lot_ of 'em. But I treasured my friends like they were fucking diamonds. Hadn't had as much reason to do so these past few years, however.

Gotta say though, "Clementine" was a new one to me. Kinda strange that someone's parents would name their child after a fruit, but whatever. Somehow, it seemed fitting. She definitely wasn't your average kid to begin with.

Nodding in acceptance, I shivered a little as a cool wind chilled me to the bone, and I abruptly started putting my jacket back on. "Well, that's a start," I said, sliding my arms into the sleeves and humming comfortably as I fell within its warm embrace. Looking back up to find her twirling her foot absentmindedly in the dirt, I sighed exhaustedly. "What are you acting all antsy for? Just chill. I'm not gonna bite," I tried joking, my chuckle dying short as I cringed at my poor choice of words. Somehow, though, it seemed to get through to her as, sure enough, Clementine cautiously sat down and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Not so scary, huh?" I quirked, feeling a strange warmth inside my chest as I saw a little bit of a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips.

Wow. Maybe there _was_ some hope here after all. I mean, if I could get Debbie Downer over here to crack a grin every now and again, imagine what could happen if I –

…no. I… I couldn't. Couldn't let myself fall for it again, not this shit. I was giving in too easily, letting my guard down in the process. How fucking desperate did I have to be… all she gave me was her goddamn name, for crying out loud, and here I was, blubbering like a toddler figuring out how to speak for the first time…

"…what's _your_ name?" she then inquired as I stalled for a second. _Crap,_ I thought to myself with a grimace, _I forgot that introductions go **both** ways._

Pulling out some of the ammunition I picked up from Howe's into my hand and slotting them into the magazine of my pistol, I tilted the weapon back and forth to examine its condition. "…Jane," I grunted dismissively, tying the bag back up as I itched at my scalp.

Fighting a raging war inside my head where I'm sure I was losing, I shut my eyes and cut myself off before I could say anymore. Clementine seemed to be puzzled by my change in behavior, a fair notion to have in this case, and I found myself standing up without my full consent. My head was buzzing like a swarm of killer bees.

I needed to get out of there. Maybe clear the air for a little bit, give me a chance to sort out my priorities.

"Just… stay here for a while. I'll be back in a couple of hours," I hastily excused myself, zipping up the windbreaker to about halfway up my ribcage and checking that I had my weapons at the ready.

"Wh-what?" she blubbered as I whizzed by, not stopping to make conversation. "Where are you going?"

"…out."

"That's not very helpful…"

"Does it matter? Just out for a walk, I'll be nearby," I told her, figuring that I'd try to get the attention back off of me. "And Clementine," I hollered back, spinning around and walking backwards a tad as I nearly tripped over an exposed tree root in the middle of the leave-riddled forest floor, "try not to eat all the rations while I'm gone, yeah?"

* * *

There was something to be said about wandering alone in the woods. Grasses growing up to your shins, mushrooms sprouting out of fallen logs and dead trees, birds calling out into the air in a battle to see who could call out the loudest and the longest... all of it somehow came together in a peaceful coexistence. A crazy, mashed-up, colossal mix-and-match, but it worked somehow. I usually felt more peace taking a stroll through the forest than I could have ever dreamed of getting before the walkers came along.

And yet, today especially, that peace was nowhere to be found. It really wasn't hard to understand why – the little munchkin I left back at the camp sort of put a nail in my 'every Jane for herself' kind of plan.

This sucked. My brain was going into overdrive telling me that keeping her around went against everything that I'd worked for over the past few months. I had a system going, and it was working wonders. No drama, no fuss, just me and my own thoughts to take care of.

My gut, however, was more open to the idea of having a little survivor tagging alongside me. She seemed pretty tough, and although there may have been a little more baggage carried along than I'd have liked, so far she didn't seem to be causing too many problems. I didn't want to count my chickens before they hatched, though. I needed to figure out where I stood on the matter.

I hadn't really meant to come out this way, passing by a faded sign for some historical-looking site called Parker's Run as I crouched in behind an overturned picnic table. But this was one of the few places around that I hadn't yet explored, and I wanted to make sure that I wasn't overlooking anything important. I'd gotten a bit of a streak going with my first haul, so I figured I might as well try to keep it going while it lasted.

Having felt more refreshed after stopping by the river nearby and splashed some water on my face, I kept my eyes on red alert as I scoped out the area. The coast was clear so far, but with the state that this place was looking in, I wasn't really as confident that it would be worth the trip. Garbage littered the pavement as little blades of grass poked out in between the cracks, with several downed walkers lying on their stomachs with the blood stains beside their heads. They looked pretty fresh to me, which meant that somebody had been here. Recently, too.

Choosing to have my pistol out instead of my knife this time, figuring that it wouldn't really be the walkers I'd have to contend with in a place like this, I carefully walked towards what appeared to be some kind of bulletin board filled to the brim with evacuation notices, missing person posters and so on. All of it covered up the fact charts underneath that talked about the historical site, and I sighed sadly as I gazed upon some of the faces on the posters. A bunch of families, some elderly-looking couples, an individual child or two… there's no way they were ever found, and if they were, they probably weren't how their loved ones remembered them.

I knew that feeling pretty well by that point. Families didn't last out here.

Tracing my index finger along a map of the park, I decided to try my hand at the gift shop that was only a little ways away. It had to be a better prospect than the museum, and other than the little rest stop I was at now, labelled "YOU ARE HERE" on the map as I headed out, there really weren't any other options anyways.

 _Sigh…_ I could feel a headache coming on. No matter the surroundings, I couldn't stop thinking about Clementine back at the camp. I was mentally kicking myself for not bringing one of those walkie-talkies I had snatched from the hardware store, having forgotten that I left it in the bag with the girl. At best, it could've been useful in a pinch. Truthfully, it probably would've at least given me a little peace of mind.

But _why,_ though? That was what I didn't understand. Why did I want this, why was she sticking around, why did I care? It made no sense. Clementine was nothing to me, and yet somehow, now that she was here, I didn't really want her to leave. We hadn't even talked yet, not really, but somehow, knowing that there was somebody waiting for me back at my camp…

" _Blech,_ " I spat, wandering through the maze-like pathway surrounded by a layer of brick walls as I checked my corners. Mulling over it like this was making my head spin. I couldn't keep doing this to myself – one fucking day of having somebody following me around, and now suddenly I was ass over tea kettle in the hopes she wouldn't vanish?

No, fuck that. This was it. My mind was made up. As soon as I'd get back to camp, I'd bid my goodbye, hand her a few of the vegetables for good measure, and send her on her way. I couldn't deal with all of these conflicting thoughts anymore. Clementine was a distraction, and distractions almost certainly would lead to my untimely death. I wouldn't let that girl hold me down.

This was for the best… Yeah, sure it was. Had to be.

* * *

About half an hour had passed by as I stared at my arch nemesis of the day – a stupid lock to the stupid gift shop that just wouldn't open, no matter how much I tried to pick it. The metal had been rusted to shit, and although the nail file I had found was working its magic – after all, versatility was _not_ overrated – I was starting to think that this was just a waste of time. The only thing that looked at all pleasing was a half-empty water cooler sitting lopsided in the corner that rolled around every time the wind came through, as well as some blankets and a beaten-up metal bowl with a rag sitting inside of it. I tried to avoid looking at the massive pile of blood sitting on the hardwood floor surrounding all of the stuff, and after another three solid attempts at picking it and one cut finger later, I was about ready to call it quits. Whatever. The people here before definitely had a hand in the mess inside of this gift shop, and the smell alone was making me gag like crazy.

Enough time had passed since I last left Clementine anyways, and although I wasn't good at all of that mushy shit, I was hopeful that parting ways would go over pretty smoothly. I'd just have to lay down the law; that this was for the best, and that we'd be better off going our separate ways. Hey, I was doing her a courtesy here! Better than the alternative – just abandoning her without a word was a lot more cruel than I'd have wanted if the roles were reversed. Besides, she could find her own way. Somehow.

Going over all the possibilities in my head, I put the nail file into my back pocket and stretched out the kinks in my back. I was definitely gonna regret being hunched over like this when I woke up in the morning, but as I started walking back down the stairs to start retracing my steps to the campsite, I immediately froze. Wide-eyed and pale-faced, I found my legs again as I quickly darted back up, into the only room without a gate and hid behind one of the garbage cans. Clutching the pistol tightly to my chest, I gritted my teeth as I considered my options. "Shit…" I whispered, realizing that the group of people heading towards my exact location definitely _weren't_ walkers. The fact that they were holding guns as well as carrying a woman on some sort of make-shift stretcher was proof enough. Bolting it now would only sound the alarm, so I chose to stay as quiet as possible and wait for an opening.

But boy would that be a long wait. "Get movin'! Up the stairs, now!" came a thickly-coated southern twang as I heard the floorboards start to buckle and shake. _Thump-thump-thump._

Jesus, this was terrifying.

A low, rumbling chuckle followed suit as somebody was thrown to the floor just a few feet away from my hiding spot. I darted out of sight just as the guy turned painfully onto his side, but I was pretty sure he caught a quick glimpse of me as I did so. Fuck!

"Easy, Troy, easy," said the deep voice from earlier, sounding as though the man had inhaled one too many cigarettes in his day. "They're not going anywhere. We've made sure of that. Now then," he continued as the guy on the floor was roughly dragged up by his collar and tossed to the railing. The victim in question had soft, brown eyes to match his wavy hair, with a light stubble adorning his chin as he, thankfully, was keeping silent about seeing me for the moment. It didn't stop him from glancing over towards the garbage can though, and as he did so, the man I could only presume was Troy had clocked him with a right hook over the side of his head before shoving him towards one of the support beams. "Where's our second group? Tavia should've been back with those ingrates a while ago."

"Lemme radio 'em," Troy suggested after leaving his victim to wince in pain. I didn't get the feeling that these guys were the friendly sort. "Tavia, you there? Bill wants a word," he said, and most of the rest of their conversation was drowned out as more of their group was brought – more like _dragged_ – either up top at the observation deck, or down on the ground level.

Figuring that it was either now or never, I spotted a doorway at the bottom of the deck that more than likely lead out to the relative safety of the woods. I crouched down, took a few steps towards the railing, prepared to jump, and –

"H-hey…" whined the dumbass that had been hit earlier as I sent a glare that he couldn't see. "Don't go… H-help… please…"

So much for keeping silent. I jumped off the railing and out of sight to the stones below just in the nick of time, for almost as soon as he said those words, he was face to face with the grizzly man that I had heard before. The idiot almost blew my cover!

Although, I realized with a frown, that I was likely about to just walk away from some sort of kidnapping or hostage situation here. The guilt was making my stomach churn as I ever so quietly inched the door open and started heading outside.

"Oh Lukey-boy, I think you've lost your marbles, there," the man I guessed was Bill stated. Even though I couldn't see him, I could tell that the guy had an air of superiority about him just by the way he was addressing people. Douchebags usually ended up that way. "Did you take one too many hits to the old noggin there? Well, I'd normally be more than happy to give you something to take your mind off of it, but you see here," he jeered, "you and your little crew _really_ dropped the ball on this one. Didn't you, Luke? And I really don't like to be jerked around."

"They shouldn't be much longer," Troy relayed back as I glued my back to the brick wall outside to avoid any further outbursts like that. "I'm guessin' they were combin' through that museum a ways back, prob'ly got 'em rootin' through them collectibles and shit."

"Sooner rather than later," Bill mentioned as, sure enough, another group of survivors was lead along like a puppet on a string towards the observation deck. This group looked to be a little bit bigger from what I had anticipated, though it was clear from their faces that they weren't together by choice. Many of them looked like they had just been thrown into a boxing ring, a large majority with red-rimmed eyes from crying. Some of them were just mindlessly staring off into space, garnering the same look that I had seen on my sister several times before. "And here we are! The rest of our merry, little band of misfits! I trust they didn't give you too much trouble, Tavia?"

"Caught a couple of them trying to get away," she remarked as I held my breath. One of their men with a machine gun sat down at the picnic table closest to where I was sitting, and I tried to shuffle further back along the wall. "But it's all settled now. They won't be trying that again."

" _Tsk-tsk-tsk,_ fellas, I thought we sorted this shit out already? Cutting and running is not the way to make amends," he strode around the captives, his hands at the sides of his burly, brown winter coat with a fur-plated hood matching his thick, slightly-greying hair. I still couldn't see his face, not that I wanted to pop out and surprise everyone, but I was a little curious to see what this was all about.

Bandit hold-ups never went this way. It was almost always a "give me your shit or we'll kill every one of you" type of deal, but this seemed too coordinated. It was almost as if I had just interrupted a town hall meeting involving one intimidating mayor and a bunch of his underlings, but he hadn't made any real demands yet.

Finding myself kind of drawn to the action, I quickly tiptoed from my hiding spot when nobody was looking over behind some large trees a dozen feet away. There was nothing I could do to help these guys, not that I really had an obligation to in the first place, but I froze when Bill had finally turned around to address some of the hostages. Half of his left eyeball was completely gone, along with a chunk of his orbital bone as well as a thick layer of skin. The sight of some of his bones sticking out, still dripping a bit of blood onto his parka, made me uneasy as I kept my gun held out in front of me.

 _This is stupid,_ I told myself, trying to force myself to flee. _What are you still doing here? Go back through the woods and get back to camp! These people don't matter at all! Just go!_

"Look at this fucking place…" he continued to rant, slowly spinning in a circle as if he was the king of the world. "You guys have any idea why we're out here now? Why so much of our community, our friends and yours are dead? No… I doubt it's really sunken in yet," he mocked, kneeling in front of a Hispanic man and poking him right in the nose. "You. All of you. Every single one of you sacks of dog shit are responsible for the sorry state we're in. And who knows, Carlos? Maybe if all of you hadn't decided to run away in the middle of the night like a bunch of pussies, then your daughter wouldn't have – "

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

_BANG!_

"OH MY GOD! NICK!"

So much commotion, so much noise…

"Troy, are you _trying_ to bring the herd back towards us? Hmm?" Bill asked as a couple of the other hostages, including that Luke guy who came bounding down the stairs, tried to get to Nick as he groaned in intense amounts of pain. A bullet had been lodged through the guy's knee cap, courtesy of a trigger-happy Troy, who looked now as if he'd been caught breaking a glass by his parents. "Keep it calm, alright? We're reasonable people here. And everyone's emotions are surely running high."

"Y-yeah… sure thing, Bill…" Nodding in understanding and patting Troy on the shoulder, Bill glanced at Nick and then finally back to Carlos. "As the resident doctor in the house, I suggest you patch him up. Unless of course you've gotten rusty, in which case… well," he smirked, turning towards another pair of people to the right of Carlos, "you know what happens to people who can't contribute."

The doctor in question looked as though his soul had been shattered, not surprising given what the guy was implying. I guessed that these guys had been caught up in the herd somewhere, too. They couldn't have been that far behind me.

I'd had enough sightseeing for the day, and made up my mind right away that getting the fuck out of here would be a solid choice. Even with Howe's still ripe for the picking, I wasn't going to take my chances with these psychopaths.

But just as I was about to leave, a chilling, low, steely voice interrupted my chain of thought.

"There's nothing to tell…" came the voice of a bearded man in a dark green jacket and orange fishing hat. Sitting beside him was a pretty Indian woman with a nose ring and a scared expression on her face. I guessed that whatever Bill had asked must've struck a nerve in the man, since he was gritting his teeth in a seething, barely-controlled rage as he glowered at their captor. "And even if I did, I wouldn't say shit."

"So I figured," Bill surmised with a bitter, humorless bark of a laugh. With a sigh, he placed his hands into his coat pockets and arched an eyebrow. "You sure you don't want to do what I asked? To tell me where that little shithead is? Because I can promise that it won't be – "

"Fuck. You."

"…didn't have to go down this way, you know. Like I said earlier, I've been more than fair to you guys, after the shit you pulled," he announced, motioning for Tavia to hand him a knife that looked eerily similar to the one I was carrying around. As soon as the handle found its way into Bill's outstretched palm, I gulped; knowing what would come next. The defiant one would always get axed first – cutting off the head before the rest of the body could grow, so to speak. I wasn't looking forward to the aftermath. Bill bent down in front of the man, smiled to reveal his toothy grin, and swatted the man's hat off of his head.

I thought he was going to end the guy right there, but this whole thing hadn't been going in the direction I thought ever since they strolled over here.

"You know, Kenneth, I admire your spirit. I really do. It's gotta take someone with some serious balls to try and say that to me. You and that kid have gotta be related somehow," Bill went on, his voice taking on a darker tone as the blade of the knife flashed in the mid-day sun. "But this attitude of yours? This insubordination? We can't have that in our ranks. Not anymore. Not out here," he motioned to the surrounding area as I accidentally dropped my gun to the ground. Hearing the twigs snap and the leaves crumple upon impact, I flinched and quickly picked it up, moving to the right as quickly and as silently as I could just as Bill whirled around.

"Mike, Vince, go check it out. Now!" he commanded, his tone not giving out any real options for them as I dove to my stomach and cursed myself for not getting out of here earlier. "You see that though, Kenny? It's called commanding respect. Mike did his time in the pen, and earned his position with no problems. But you fuckers? Hmph, couldn't stand having to wait in there for a couple more weeks to fill up your probationary period. Patience isn't exactly your strongest virtue, is it?"

Breathing ragged and palms sweaty, I spit out some of the dirt and crawled over towards a set of sharp rocks leading down towards a small, stream-like section of the river. There was a bridge right next to it, and I rolled over to place myself underneath it; knife at the ready as I swore under my breath. "Shit, shit, shit…" I whispered, watching as Vince picked up the pistol I had dropped and hurried back over to the group. Mike looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, and as he closed his eyes and shook his head, I could see him rubbing a hand over his face as a quiet sob shuddered his body.

"Is she out there? Huh? Is she trying to come back for round two?!" Bill demanded, grabbing Kenny roughly by the collar and shaking him as the bearded man spit in his face. Wiping the saliva off of his chin, Bill shook his head gradually and laughed again. "Look… I hate violence. I really do. It's tedious, it's repetitive, it hurts, but unfortunately it gets things done."

The woman next to him started bawling and shouting out "no" in between her hiccups, and all the rest of their group could do was watch as Bill gripped the knife tightly in his hand.

"I'm gonna fucking break you," Bill snarled venomously, not missing a beat as he slowly nicked Kenny's cheek with the blade. It was hard to see from over here, but I could tell there was a bit of blood dripping down the man's cheek as Kenny winced from the pain.

"Oh god, please don't do this! Kenny… Kenny… Don't kill him!" came the wails of the woman beside him, practically bent over backwards in hysterics as she begged for Bill to spare his life. Judging from the reaction, I gathered that the two of them were together in some way.

Slowly turning his gaze towards said woman, Bill grinned and pulled the knife away from Kenny's face. "Oh darling," he cooed, taking his hand and brushing a few locks of dark hair away from her face. "Who said anything about killing _him?_ "

Taking off in the chaos that followed, I turned my head away quickly as Bill stabbed her in the heart; twisting the blade in her chest for only a second before yanking it out and slashing her throat with a quick strike across. I didn't want to listen to her gargle on and choke on her own blood as it started to pool, and I tripped on a few of the stones as I heard one last final cry before booking it into the woods.

_"SARITA!"_


	3. Complicated

It felt like I had Parkinson's disease as I reached into the bag, shaking everything in between my fingers so much that a couple of the blueberries had fallen onto the dirt beside my boot. The five second rule was something I heavily believed in, but right then I couldn't be bothered to pick them back up. Something told me that they wouldn't have tasted as sweet today anyways.

"Um…" started Clementine, ever so careful not to mince her words, "are… are you okay?"

Everything was a blur. The sky seemed darker, but there wasn't a cloud in sight for miles in any direction, and the air seemed heavier as I came across the remaining bullet shells resting in the opened box. Useless now, it seemed, since I had dropped my gun and let those… those… _maniacs_ … get their dirty mitts on it. I had been there. I was a witness, a loose end to be tied up. Someone had seen me.

_Someone saw me. That "Luke" guy. They knew someone was out there with them. Watching them._

Dammit, this was _not_ how my day was supposed to go. Frowning deeply, I ignored the girl as she grew even more worried. I couldn't imagine what I must've looked like, running back here like I was being hunted like a wild animal. For all I knew, that was already happening. Luke seemed pretty squeamish under Bill's gaze, and if he put the pressure on, he'd talk. Some mystery woman out in the wilderness? Yeah, that'd stir up the paranoia pot something fierce, especially with the tensions so palpable after Bill had –

"There was a walker who came by, but I don't think it saw me," she went on with a shrug. I was too caught up in my own head to notice her social walls had been torn down a little bit since I left. Maybe she was just trying to fill in some of the silent void I was establishing. "You were gone for a long while…"

I knew it. I knew that people were nothing but trouble. I never should've headed over to Fucksville, USA and tried to get the goddamn gift shop opened. Nobody had followed me yet, but there was no telling exactly what might've gone down back there. My back was turned when I made my exit.

"Jane?"

"I'm leaving."

Stunned was probably a good descriptor of her reaction. Stunned, and a little bit of worry at my abrupt decision to leave this place behind. I could tell that she wasn't really the type to just up and go on a whim, but I didn't have time to really explain myself. I thought I would've before, but now…

 _Sigh_ … why did nothing ever, EVER, go the way I planned it to?

Concern flashing over her troubled, young face, likely having seen people leave her before, Clementine frowned as I dropped a couple of the bullets back into the sack. I dunno, I guess I could try throwing them at the walkers. "But – " she stammered as I shook my head and cut her off.

"It'll be easier this way. For the both of us," I added with a shrug, standing up with the bag strewn over my shoulder and glancing downwards. I hadn't really noticed just how short the girl was until now, but at the moment I felt like the opposite could've been true. My throat was clenching as I kept up the explanation. "Trust me, this is a better idea."

"For _you_ maybe!" she cried out as I widened my eyes a bit. Whoa, wasn't expecting that to come out of her. "I… I don't understand! Why do you want to go so badly? Do you like, hate me or something?"

"What? No! It's not that! Just…" I huffed out with a little grunt, digging one of my heels in the dirt as I bit my lip. "…it'll be simpler if we're both on our own. You… you're a smart kid, I can tell. You'd be able to make it. Might take a little time, but eventually you'll see that I'm right."

But Clementine didn't seem to buy that answer, unfortunately. She had had other ideas, it seemed, and as I watched her shut her eyes tightly and shake her head in denial, I verbally wondered what she was on about this time. I just witnessed her take down a walker using nothing but a rusty hatchet, and somehow she was _doubting_ herself?

When she didn't respond to that right away, I took it as the little girl giving in, and I wasn't about to spoil the opportunity. " _Riiight,_ " I awkwardly cleared my throat, moving past her as I handed out a little bit of the food as a sort of parting gift. "Look… don't you have a family out there someplace? Or friends, maybe? They've gotta be out looking for ya – better to go searching for 'em than to twiddle your thumbs around here," I wearily suggested, missing the silent cues as she stared painfully at the hay pile I created earlier. Pointing down the winding road, I offered some last minute advice as to what her next move could be before I headed out to… wherever. I wasn't really too keen on making any pit stops along the way today, but even I could admit that my next destination was eluding me.

"Just keep heading down that road. There should be a town along the way, or at least a village or something," I shrugged as she continued to stare at the dirt. "You know the score, though. Just keep an eye out for other walkers and… _people_ …" I shuddered with a snarl, "and you should be fine."

"…hey, Jane?"

Sighing in annoyance at her insistent need to get more out of me, sort of like beating a dead horse, I turned around slightly and held my hands out at my sides. "What? I already told you, I'm not changing my mind," I told her curtly, a little creeped out as she stared blankly at the spot I had been before. I had very little time to try and get away from this place, and so far the incessant questions were really cutting that window even shorter.

With her voice hoarse and barely above a whisper, Clementine dropped her hatchet onto the hay pile and suddenly sat down, cross-legged in the dirt as she absentmindedly fiddled with some sticks to play with. "If you didn't want me around," she finally turned to me and said, her eyes as hollow as ever, "then why did you help me back there?"

Apparently it was my turn to be frazzled, as if I hadn't already been put through the ringer earlier today. Shit. Silent treatments were one thing, but guilt trips? This kid had fucking _guilt trips_ up her sleeve now, too? Because if she did, Clementine was definitely laying it on thick.

But I had to strong here. I had to have the stronger will. And although I was trying to justify to myself that I was still being the adult in this instance, banking on how the girl decided to take an impromptu date in the sand for no apparent reason that my already convoluted brain could think of, I couldn't help it when my lips pursed indignantly. "This isn't up for debate," I reminded her as once again she didn't say a word. The nerve of that little…! "What did you want me to do then, huh? Just leave you there to be eaten alive? You didn't seem to mind getting out of that hardware store after chopping up that walker into itty, bitty pieces!"

Clementine traced the beginnings of some kind of stick figure in the dirt as she continued to act as if I didn't exist. That only made my frown deepen and cause my hands to clench into fists, but I groaned, shook my head, turned around and stomped off to wherever the fuck it was I was going before. I didn't even care at that point. Anywhere was better than staying and listening to a damn pre-teen giving me this off-and-on again shame session.

The leaves crumpled under my boots as I brushed a tree branch out of my sight, nearly smacking myself right back in the face all the while. This was so stupid! Why would she even ask me something like that, anyways? I wasn't some monster coming around to fuck people over whenever the going got tough… at least, I didn't _think_ I was. Was I? Ugh, I couldn't even tell anymore. Maybe...

But wait a minute, no! That was completely wrong! Okay, so I did come over to Howe's in the first place to get my hands on some last-minute leftover shopping deals courtesy of a horde of walkers, but that wasn't stealing or anything! It's not as if the owners were in a real hurry to come back anyways!

And I _so_ would not have been as cruel as to just ditch someone like that, let alone a kid… even though the thought did cross my mind…

Gah! I felt like pulling my hair out right then. After another few seconds of walking, happening to pass over an old tricycle with the wheels and handlebars all mangled to hell, I stopped and turned my head back towards the treeline. Geez, one little question from Clementine had sent a billion thoughts buzzing through my head, none of which were either satisfying or devoid of a colourful line of profanities. And believe me, I knew a _lot_ of swear words. Seriously. I probably could've written a book.

All the while, my mind kept drifting back to that woman who got killed. Sarita, I think somebody said her name was? Apparently all it took was to try and help the person you cared about in order to get brutally slaughtered these days. One cry to stop and Bill sliced and diced. I couldn't forget the ease with which he did it, either; the callous disregard for anyone who didn't fit under his category of people worth saving.

There had been a few times in the past where, admittedly, I had come close to crossing into that dark territory myself. If I let my mind wander and stew too much, if I let myself get dragged down to my lowest with almost no hope of escaping, my head would just gravitate towards the worst acts imaginable. Killing – it was something you had to do these days, but I never _liked_ doing it. It wasn't something I wanted to do. Thankfully, I had made it a priority to never act on that impulse unless my life was on the line, but I still couldn't believe that others actually _did._

"Fuck…" I mumbled upon coming to some kind of abandoned, burned-out van that was left to rust after apparently crashing head-first into a rock formation. This didn't look familiar at all. I should've passed by the old birch tree that stood out like a sore thumb by now, with its grey bark all torn to tatters by whatever animal decided to make its mark on the territory over there, but the thing was nowhere in sight.

Biting my lip, I silently fumed as I glanced every which way. I didn't have a GPS super-glued into my arm or anything, or any real map of the surrounding countryside to point me in the right direction. This wasn't a trail, either, so no road signs were out to guide me around, and as my gaze finally landed on the skeletal remains of a walker up ahead, likely implanted into the dirt by that van some time ago, I groaned and turned back around. Like it or not, I'd have to retrace my steps, which meant I would have to second-guess myself and head back to camp again. Back to Clementine.

The kid was like a magnet apparently. I had no real ill-will towards her, but I certainly didn't want to come sulking back and looking as though I wanted to beg for forgiveness, either. The sting of our departure was still sitting on the tip of my tongue, anyways, but the only fire that fueled my determination was knowing, deep down, that I was better than what Clementine was implying. That, coupled with the fact that I was admittedly a stubborn, little prick when I felt it was necessary, drove me forward as my boots got caked in mud with each passing step.

It had maybe been twenty, possibly twenty-five minutes, tops, since I had left her, but as I stormed back to the camp, mouth hanging ajar and ready to add more justifications to keep the ball on my side of the court, I stopped myself when I noticed it. Clementine was _gone._ There was no sign she had even been there aside from the little drawings she had made, faded away with a careful hand as a crude "Sorry" was sketched above the stick figures.

Great. Now I had REALLY fucking done it. Fantastic work, Jane! Not only did you leave the kid to fend for herself, basically shooting her the bird in the process, but then you made her feel like shit even more so than before.

Taking to a light jog as I returned to the camp, I brushed the hay pile out of the way to try and find something to tell me where she might've gone.

If the walkers didn't find her, then that crazy son of a bitch likely would. I hadn't really noticed any kids around in their little group, but from what I could tell, none of those captors were really the parental type anyways. And if she didn't stumble upon them, then it might've been someone else – someone even _worse_ , perhaps. Or maybe it'd be her dying of thirst. Or hunger. Or sleep deprivation. Or fucking… _bears_ , I dunno! She could die in a billion horrible ways, and that would all be on me. I would be responsible for the death of yet another child.

My anger had fizzled out momentarily by the time I finished clearing out the place. Dammit, I had hoped for some sort of clue, like maybe her baseball hat or something similar, but Clementine didn't leave much to go off of. Smart, I realized, to not leave anything behind that would lead somebody back to her, but it didn't do me much good as I tried brushing the hay pile away. Maybe there'd be some footprints in the dirt she had planted in.

I didn't want to leave it like this. Not on that note, at least. Clementine was the first person in a long time who had actually bothered to try and stay with me for a little while, and all I did was act like a total bitch. I knew that I could be a little distant at times, particularly on a day like today, but maybe if I tried explaining myself better without giving too much away, then…

_Snap!_

I knew the sound of a walker pretty darn well at this point, but I didn't turn around to deal with it right away. It looked as though I wouldn't be staying here for much longer anyways, as I frowned upon noticing that what few tracks there were ended up swaying way off to the left before disappearing into the brush. Clementine had a head start on me, and there was no way I'd be able to find her now. Not that she'd really _want_ me to… The dejected way she was looking after I left was proof enough of that.

"Would you just give me a fucking minute here?" I swore at the undead creature, scowling at it deeply over my shoulder after noticing it got stuck in between two of the pine trees, swiping out at me even though it was still a few yards away. These things were completely mindless, and for some reason I found that more infuriating today than simply being a part of life. These things would be by my side until the day I died, the only company left out in this shitty excuse of an existence.

What I wouldn't have given for a rocket ship or something right then. Maybe the moon would have better things to do than to skulk around here with no end goal in sight. Or Mars! Yeah, maybe the Martians would be a little more accommodating, having never seen an Earthling visit their planet before. It could happen – I bet their laser pistols would be a lot more fun, anyways.

For now, though, I'd have to deal with my pesky little friend over here, and so I stood to full height as I trudged over towards him. It looked as though the guy had been killed just a little while ago, but something about him seemed _really_ familiar.

The closer I got, the more recognizable he became. It was that guy from Howe's, the one I almost got caught by. They never said what his name was, though I doubt I would've remembered even if they did. His dirty blonde hair was now marked at the bottom by a thick, dark coating of blood, and the glasses he wore beforehand were nowhere to be seen. I could spot the bite on his neck, plus several others lining his left arm and part of his ear, and I pursed my lips as I started to unsheathe my knife. Guess these guys didn't get out of there alive. Not surprising, really, given how obnoxiously loud they were being upon escaping, but I couldn't say that they deserved a fate like this. Few people ever did.

It was a little difficult to get the jump on him from this angle, but I managed to tilt the blade just right as I jammed it forwards and sliced right through his eyeball; shimmying it around a little to scramble the brain as I cringed at the disgusting sounds it made. It almost felt like I was sticking my fingers in some of the grossest jelly this world had ever seen, and as I tore my weapon out of the guy's skull, watching him hang lifelessly over the edge of the tree, I wiped the metal off on his jacket.

This was hopeless. Clementine had vanished into thin air, and with the sun starting to go down like this, there was no way I'd be willing or able to track her in the dark. The best I could hope for now was that she managed to find a little cave or something to hide in, and even that was a stretch. There was nothing but trees in these woods for miles in almost every direction.

If I found her the next day, lying face-down in the dirt, dead as a doornail, I wasn't so sure I'd be able to forgive myself. Shitty circumstances happened all the time – that's just the way things were these days. But if somebody were to die from my negligence, or the fact that I could've done something to prevent it? I mean, _fuck_. How would I be able to wake up the next morning?

How could _anyone?_

* * *

Rain seemed to have this odd, eerie way of calming my nerves. Almost every night at my parents' house, back when the only real worry I had to think about was whether Jaime would come barging into my room to demand that I play with her, I'd head out to the backyard during the summer storms. Mom would be smoking out in her car when she thought nobody was looking, so it was one of the only times I'd never get a lecture about something stupid I had done that day. I'd roll my sleeves up, sit out on the concrete steps and let the water droplets pour down on top of me. The massive, twenty-foot high trees we had would rustle in the breeze, and our wind chime would screech out as it'd get tossed back and forth like a swing set, and all the animals – squirrels, birds, raccoons, you name it – would scurry back to their homes.

Not me, though. I'd close my eyes and breathe deeply through my nose; running a hand through my hair to spike it up from Mother Nature's hair gel as it soaked me to the bone. And you know what? I loved every second of it. I thought it was the coolest feeling in the world.

That feeling still hadn't changed per say, but it was more of a hindrance right then with how chilly it'd become lately. My leather jacket could block out most of it, but I had to hide under some of the pine trees for a couple of hours to wait for the storm to pass. Mud was starting to form down at the bottom of the hill, and the only entertainment I had to pass the time was watching as a few walkers tried in vain to climb up to catch me; slipping over and falling face-first back into the dirt each time that they made an attempt.

There wasn't any sign of Bill's little gang yet, but I wouldn't have put it past them to be out here snooping around. They didn't seem to be in that much of a hurry to leave anywhere, not from what I could tell. All that worrying about what their group might've done would be behind me though, soon enough.

I had a new plan, one I had thought of after mulling it over with seemingly nothing better to do. And hopefully it'd be better than the last one I came up with.

South was starting to seem like a nice prospect with each passing hour. Walkers were going to be a problem no matter where I went, but with the way things had been going ever since I left D.C., a little change of scenery definitely wouldn't hurt. Plus, and probably most importantly, I'd be _warm._ And the less campfires I'd have to make just to keep the wind chill off of me, the better, as far as I was concerned.

It was just a matter of actually getting there. Now that was putting a thorn in my side. Trudging it out on foot like this was slowly killing me with each passing step, and if I wanted to stay out of the line of fire from anything walking on two legs, a car would definitely do the trick. An ATV would be pretty cool, too. Always wanted to try one of those. Might not have been the most reliable or practical thing to travel with, but hey, at least I'd look like a total badass.

Until then, I was content to wait until my boots dried out. My visibility was severely limited right now, what with all the rain and fog swooping in, and I managed to pass the time by keeping one eye on the walkers down below. With them standing just in front of some kind of storm drain, I guessed that one of the main roads wouldn't be too far off. Grabbing a stick that had fallen from the evergreen where I was resting my aching head, I tossed the thing like a Frisbee as it sailed down; landing a direct hit at one of the walkers' legs as it seemingly only got even angrier.

I still couldn't believe that my gun was gone. I never was a fan of the noise those things made, and using my hunting knife always gave me some strange sense of satisfaction, but damn, did I ever feel vulnerable. A reckless part of my brain wanted to march back there to try and get it back, but my rational self told me that not only was that a stupid idea, but I wasn't even exactly sure which one of those goons picked it up. Besides, I wasn't willing to kill a person for a crime they didn't commit. Nobody had stolen anything from me – it was my own fault.

Just as I was beginning to find a semi-comfortable spot at the base of the tree trunk, I made out the sound of some kind of yelp. It was faint, and I could've been imagining things over the pounding rain – I mean, these woods _were_ pretty spooky – but nonetheless I turned my head in the direction I thought it was coming from. There were plenty of things that I hated, and getting caught off guard was one of my top contenders.

I didn't want to call out in case it was a trap, so I rose to my feet and narrowed my gaze to try and peer out into the inky darkness. There really wasn't much around aside from some more bushes and trees that were slowly encapsulating me, but when the sound came again, louder and more of a grunt this time, I knew that enough was enough. As shitty as it might've been, at least I'd gotten a bit of time to rest and stretch my legs. Time to move on.

My voyage would be short-lived, however, as a lightning strike illuminated a more urgent threat. Amongst all the sounds from the storm, a walker had gotten way too close to my shelter; drenched through his t-shirt endorsing a band I had never heard of before. The bottom half of his jaw had been severed off by something, but the bastard still had some teeth to give his bite that extra _mmph._

Thinking quickly, I went to reach for my knife and end this before it became more of a problem, but I cursed my luck when the walker sprang upon me first. I pressed the limited strength I had into pushing the beast back and keeping it at an arm's distance as it swung and tried to claw at my face, but thankfully with another solid shove, I drove it back against the tree. The thing only stumbled for a second though, and was ready to come back for round two as I finally was able to draw my knife.

The next few moments all seemed to bundle together as it happened. With the ground being as soaked as it was, my foot slipped and I lost my balance, unfortunately taking the walker down with me as we fell backwards and rolled down the hill. A sharp pain stabbed at my side as we tumbled, and as frightening as it was, I didn't have time to check it out as we knocked the other walkers down below over like bowling pins. Besides, the adrenaline rush I was feeling wouldn't have allowed me to notice any pain yet, anyway.

My knife had been flung from my grasp a little ways off upon hitting the ground, sticking with the blade facing down as I was tossed to my stomach. I must've gotten the wind knocked out of me as I fell, chest heaving and coughing up bits of mud and grime, before I forced myself to start crawling on my hands and knees towards my weapon. The storm refused to let up with every inch I moved, but even the crackle of thunder couldn't drown out the growls of the dead that were gaining on me. I would _not_ go down like this! I wouldn't let myself get killed this way, not like a fucking animal trudging through yards of dirt only to get ripped open by a pack of walkers I had been mocking only minutes before.

So, doing the only logical thing I could think of as one of the walkers made a move on me, I kicked at its shin as it fell over and I rolled onto my side. I cried out in pain as I did this, however, finally managing to clutch onto part of my abdomen, only to come back with a hand stained in red.

Instantly, the worst possible thought sprang to mind.

"No…" I whispered hoarsely, trying to wipe away the mud from my jacket as I searched for what I thought for sure was coming. The walkers hadn't been dealt with yet, but right now the only thing my foggy mind could think of was, _oh shit, I'm going to die. This is it, I'm done for. After everything that's happened, everything I've done, everything I've seen and been through… all of it lead to this._

For the first time since that fateful day with Jaime, I felt tears stinging at my eyes. White-hot, fearing-for-your-life kind of tears that I stubbornly wouldn't let fall down; blinding me slightly in the process as I angrily slammed a fist into the water-logged ground. This sucked. It wasn't fair. None of it was. I didn't want to die. I hadn't really lived, not yet, anyways. I thought I was too fucking stubborn to die, but… now… with this…

 _"Graghh!"_ snapped two of the walkers as they finally managed to find their footing once again. With total despair now evident as I turned to my would-be killers, I clenched my teeth and grabbed onto the nearest thing I could find. My knife was still too far away for me to reach from here, so, clutching a large rock in both of my hands, I leaned back before tossing it directly at the first walker I saw. Down it went as I heard its decayed ribs snap in two, and before long I had already pounced on the second walker as I tried tearing the beast's head apart with my bare hands.

Dirty, bloodied fingers dove straight into the eye sockets of my target as I gritted my teeth and delved deeper, the feeling of the walker's brain pressing against my skin chilling me to the core. "How's that fucking feel, huh?!" I snarled as it continued to snap its jaws in my direction. Taunting the damn thing felt like the only thing left I could control as I finally started lifting up its head, slamming it down against the metal grate of the storm drain as the collected water surrounding us began to turn a dark red. Most of it was definitely from the walker I was savagely beating to a bloody pulp, having seen no other options since my choice of weapons was in short supply, but some of it was definitely from me. I could feel some blood dripping down my forehead while the gash from my stomach wound started to collect, and after another moment or two of smashing the living daylights out of the thing, I finally stopped as the walker grew still.

I could only draw breath for a moment of release before the next one threw itself on top of me.

Pinned down as I landed with a resounding _thud,_ I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes. If this was how it ended, then I didn't want to see the face of my killer. I didn't want to feel its sharp teeth digging into my cheek, or scream out in agony as its corroded hands gouged into my stomach. My energy was zapped from trying to take on too many at once, and before I knew what was happening, I was thrust into the water of the storm drain. I gasped for air as my head was submerged, and I could do nothing but struggle against the monster's weight as the third walker managed to crawl its way out from underneath the rock; shredding its lower half in the process as I held my breath. Drowning, then? Not really what I was going for, but alright.

The last thing I noticed before blacking out was seeing the blur of a person zooming by, some kind of sharp tool in hand as they charged forward to try and come to my rescue.

…Jaime? No… no, it couldn't be… she couldn't be here… it was impossible…she… she died… because of _me_ …

 _"…ane…!"_ the person cried out, skewing one of the walkers as my head rolled back.

* * *

 

….

….

….

…. _blech! Blech! Huhh… Cough-cough!_

The leftover sewage water running through my lungs was gross as shit as I spluttered it up, groaning painfully as I leaned over and spit out some blood onto the grass. My arms were shaking under the combined weight as I shuddered. How the hell did I survive that? I remembered falling, fighting with those walkers, which apparently were nowhere to be seen as I half-heartedly looked around, and then… nothing.

It didn't look as though I was still in the storm drain, though I could tell that it still wasn't far away as I spotted the hill I had so gracefully tumbled down before. The rain must've stopped at some point, and although it was still relatively dark out, I could spot little splashes of sunlight popping in through the trees; the dew glistening off of the branches as I tried to collect my bearings.

One thing was for sure – there was _no way_ I had just gotten out of that mess myself, and my suspicions were only confirmed even more as I saw the trio of walkers spread out in a row close to where I was recovering from.

…oh shit, that's right…

It ached like hell as I slowly lifted up my jacket, with the water from my dip in the puddle having stuck the leather material to my body, and I groaned slightly as I felt the wound get unstuck like a piece of Velcro. The blood hadn't dried yet, but as I finally lifted it up to an acceptable level, I let my head roll back and barked out a chuckle.

No bite marks anywhere. Not one to be seen, even as I triple-checked all over my body just to make sure I hadn't accidentally missed any. This would still need to be attended to, but with the right amount of cleaning and a couple of weeks without disturbing it, the mark likely wouldn't be a problem. And besides, I was _safe._ That had been way too fucking close for comfort, and as I sat down on the grass to take a load off and just revel in this short-lived victory, my head turned to the sound of footsteps coming up behind me.

Neither of us really knew what to say as we stared at each other, slack-jawed and wide-eyed with a touch of humility thrown into the mix. I guess I really shouldn't have been surprised that it was Clementine of all people who I was faced with now, but with all that had just transpired since taking my leave, I had to break eye contact first. I mean, how could I _not?_ This might've been the most embarrassing and humiliating thing I had been through in a very long time.

Where would I even begin here?

Clementine walked over and dumped an armful of sticks onto her already-growing pile close to the walkers she had killed, and upon her noticing how bloody my hands had gotten, I subconsciously went to hide them in my pockets. "I, uh… I wasn't sure you were gonna wake up," she wearily mentioned, earning an awkward shrug from me as I let out a quiet chuckle.

"Yeah, well…" I started as she wiped the wood shavings off of her hands with a few dull claps, "can't say it was my first choice, mud wrestling with a bunch of walkers. But you know… gotta get my kicks in somewhere, right?"

Smirking at that, I could tell she was fighting off a few laughs as I watched her silently with amusement. I really couldn't figure the girl out. The one second that I think I've got a good read on her, she turns around and flips that notions completely on its head. It was clear to me now that she saved my life, destroying their brains and somehow managing to pull me out of the storm drain to avoid certain death. I was shocked that she had managed to do all that and somehow _still_ keep me breathing, but then again, Clementine seemed to be full of surprises.

There were still a few things I wanted to say, things I _needed_ to tell her in order to try and make up for all the crap that went down yesterday. Laying that guilt on her shoulders wasn't cool, and I had no intention of going forward without at least pretending to be correcting my mistakes.

It just so happened that I sucked at making apologies. Like, big time.

"So… about yesterday…" I trailed off as I slowly went to stand up, shaking my head when Clementine tried to lend a hand, "I'm, uhh… well… _sorry,_ about how that all went down. I should've explained things better, and leaving you like that… it… it just wasn't me, you know? Not my style."

Despite it _totally_ being the way I'd usually handle things like this, I was firm in my belief as Clementine wrung her hands together and stared down at her shoes. Truth be told, and deep down I figured that I'd known this all along, I was _scared._ Scared of what this might've meant, afraid to face the fact that there might be another person out there who was in the same boat as me. Someone who might've loved and lost, who got up each and every morning not because they wanted to, but because they were forced to. Clementine, despite often being quite shy and introverted from what I could tell, had a fire burning inside of her, and it was clear she had seen some pretty messed up shit. No kid her age would've acted the way she did unless something happened that sent them to their breaking point. I sure as hell didn't want to step over any boundaries here, but I was going to give this "kind" thing a shot.

Running away was a mistake, and I could tell that it cut her deeply. If nothing else, it might've simply been the fact that she didn't want to have to travel alone, but if not… if there was actually some good intention, some meaning behind it…

 _Straight and to the point. Just keep it simple,_ I reminded myself after I cleared my throat. Time to not make it weird.

"I tried looking for you, back at the camp," I told her with a thumb pointing backwards. "Gotta say, though, you've got some pretty good instincts there."

Perking up a little at that, Clementine tilted her head questioningly as I shrugged my shoulders. I guessed that I'd be the one carrying the conversation once again, not that I really minded right now. It gave me plenty of opportunities to lay out what I needed.

"Covering up your trail like that, I mean. It's… it's a good habit to pick up. I do it, too. Never know when some assholes out in the woods might try and – "

Gulping as I widened my eyes, I immediately stopped myself and turned around, heading right back to square one as I tried to rearrange some of the firewood. No… she didn't need to know about it. About _them._ It was way too soon, and I didn't really feel like startling the kid even more than she already was. A bunch of crazy fucks out in the wilderness? Yeah, I think she'd be better off not knowing the details if at all possible.

"Are you feeling alright?" she softly inquired as she spotted my body lock up after moving around a little too much. Fucking walkers! "That looked like it hurt…"

"…nothing I can't shake off."

"I could help if you'd let me."

"Well, unless you've got a first aid kit in your back pocket, I think we're shit out of luck," I groaned, cringing slightly when that came out a little meaner than I hoped it would. Clementine either didn't notice or didn't care, though, as after a few seconds of holding my stomach with one hand and rooting around in the sticks with the other, she appeared by my side almost out of thin air. "C'mon, knock it off. I've got it," I insisted, lightly trying to bat her hand away as she grabbed onto some of the larger logs.

"Doesn't look like it to me," she bit back as I sighed in exasperation, dropping to one knee as I used a nearby rock to support myself. Okay, maybe she had a _little_ bit of a point. "You need to clean that out with something, and patch yourself up," the girl wisely mentioned as I was forced to allow her to look at the wound.

I couldn't help but snort at that. " _Hmph._ "Clean" isn't really much of an option anymore," I shook my head as I applied some pressure to the damaged area. The sucker stung like a bitch, but after taking some much-needed deep breaths as I sucked in air through the gaps in my teeth, I was starting to be able to control some of the pain. This was nothing, I was sure of it. I'd heal up soon enough.

Clementine, seeming to make up her mind about what she wanted to do, stood up after tending to me for a few more minutes. "I'll get some water from the creek. It's probably gonna be pretty gross, but I guess it's better than nothing," she announced as I reluctantly nodded my head. I didn't really feel like arguing with that logic. Hopefully she'd be able to find some napkins or something, too. I wasn't holding out too much hope of her stumbling upon a pack of bandages and gauze while she walked around.

"Got something to protect yourself with?" I asked as she nodded her head, giving the hatchet I'd seen her with a few more swings to prove her point.

I thought that would've been the end of it, and I tried to lay my head back to get rid of the pounding in between my ears, but Clementine cleared her throat as I glanced back up at her. The girl's look was stoic yet stern, with a grumpy stare on her face that, and I was kind of afraid to admit it, intimidated me a little bit as I arched an eyebrow. Well… intimidating, but also kind of amusing coming from a girl who was at least a foot shorter and fifty-something pounds lighter than me.

"If I come back here, and you're gone…"

"Not gonna happen, don't worry. Can't really travel all that well right now, anyways," I added, noticing how she cautiously hesitated at my words there for a moment, almost as if she was carefully trying to gauge whether or not she could trust me again. So far, I didn't think that was going very well.

But, I thought as I started to watch her leave, there wasn't really any time like the present to start it over again. Besides, I think I owed her for that at least. We weren't square yet.

"…hey, Clem?"

I was a little satisfied to see that she bought my line, not having been so sure that using a short form of her name would've been a good idea or not. It could've been for close friends and family only, for all I knew. "Just… be careful," I reminded her, biting my lip and deciding to go for it as she lingered by one of the pine trees. "…and…" I stumbled, sighing once again as I clicked my tongue. "…thank you."

That cold, calculating stare was still in her eyes as she gave me a sideways glance, but there was no mistaking the little grin that tugged at the corner of her lips as she nodded her head. With that, she scanned the area for walkers, turned on her heel, and disappeared into the forest.


	4. Flare

My whole face scrunched up tightly as I released a yawn of epic proportions. It'd certainly been a long morning of hiking, with only a couple of five minute pit stops in between so that one of us could relieve themselves while the other stood watch. Thankfully, for me at least, this wasn't anything new. Almost a year and a half of marching through wooded terrain like this had given my legs some pretty good strength training, and while I'd occasionally feel the ache after a solid day's worth of walking, usually the pain would only be temporary.

Clementine didn't seem to be so lucky. The girl was following steadily in behind, but the farther we traveled, the greater the distance between us would grow, and the more I'd have to wait for her to catch up. She hardly ever complained, naturally, but I could tell she was struggling. Her eyes were constantly screwed into slits as she winced when she moved around too much, but whenever she caught me looking over my shoulder towards her, she'd immediately tense up and act as if nothing was wrong.

On any normal given day, I wouldn't have cared. Wouldn't have batted so much as an eyelid. But if sneaking out during my teenage years and making up excuses to my parents had taught me one thing, it was that when somebody was faking it, you knew that something was up.

And I'd be _damned_ if there wasn't anything wrong right now.

Placing my hands in my coat pockets, I waited for a few seconds for the girl to reach my side before bringing it up. "It's gonna get infected," I mentioned quietly, not going into some sort of parental freak out mode, but not overly indifferent, either.

"Hmm?" she inquired, scratching at an itch on the side of her face. "What'd you say?"

"That burn below your neck. It's only gonna get worse if you don't – "

"I… don't know what you're talking about."

I frowned at the back of her ball cap-adorning head as we pressed on, passing an old gas station that had been boxed in to keep the walkers from breaking through the glass. Clementine was being dodgy as shit. I mean… really, she kind of had been from the start, and maybe it was still a little too early to call each other's bluff, but I wasn't wrong about this. I knew that much.

"Uh huh," I sarcastically replied, watching as she suddenly found a road sign much more interesting than me. "Can't really pull a fast one over me, Clementine. Either that's a burn, or it's one of the nastiest-looking hickeys I've ever seen."

"A… _hickey?_ What's – "

"Doesn't matter. Point is," I interrupted, not sure whether I was mentally or physically capable of explaining what that was to her, "covering it up like that? See? What you're doing right there?" I pointed out as she started speed walking in front of me. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as she made a point of getting at least two steps ahead of me, but with how short she was, Clem wasn't making it very far. "That's childish. You're only gonna hurt yourself. There's no point in letting it get worse."

A scowl sprouted on her face as she muttered irritably under her breath. "Yeah, because you were _such_ a good patient back there…"

Ouch. That "childish" remark must've rubbed her the wrong way.

Gulping, I stiffened up a little bit as the moss covering certain sections of the pavement became increasingly noticeable. _Ech_ … she kind of had me on that one. I'll admit, I couldn't really sit still when she came back and started helping me dress my wounds a couple of days ago, but what was I supposed to do? Sit there with my hands folded together and wait with a massive grin from ear to ear while she put her fingers into an open cut? Ha! Yeah right. Clem was lucky that I managed to hold still long enough to keep from swinging my arms around. Now _that_ wouldn't have been pretty.

"W-well…" I stumbled, burying my hands deep into my pockets as I noticed the beginning of some kind of old track completely covered by an overgrown sheet of grass. "To be fair… I think your bedside manner might need some work there, too. _"Jane, sit still! Jane, shut up! Quit being such a baby, Jane!"_ Any of that ringing a bell?"

"I don't sound like that!"

"I dunno – give it a few years and it might be a pretty good match," I bugged her, widening my eyes a little when I felt a tiny, pre-teen fist lightly punching me in the arm. Clementine, clearly regretting this as she instantly pulled her hand back, darted her gaze to the dirt as the air became awkward around us. Gah! I'm such an idiot sometimes… I shouldn't have let it get that far. I let myself forget about where we were going, about what we were even doing walking around like this in the first place.

It was such a little thing, so insignificant. Just a little jousting match between… well, a couple of survivors, I guessed, but I hadn't really been thinking anything of it. Clementine, despite her usual unwillingness to chat it up every now and again to lighten the mood, had a way of communicating without really having to do so verbally all the time.

I think her pensiveness was starting to grow on me a little bit, like a fungus. Or maybe… maybe it was _Clementine herself_ that was starting to grow on me.

"…yeah. So," I continued, trying to brush it under the rug as I glanced down at her again. "C'mon then. Just… lemme have a look. You helped me back there, so…"

"There's nothing to see," she insisted, leaning her head away from my hand as I tried to reach over towards her collar. "Quit it! Why don't you just leave me alone?!"

"I won't touch anything, honest! But you can't go walking around with that all day! What if you get sick from it, or worse – what if somebody sees us and thinks you're _bitten?"_

"Just stop it! There's _nothing_ there! Please… just…"

"Then prove it to me," I challenged, folding my arms and standing in front of her to try and block the path. When she glared at me, I simply shrugged my shoulders and pointed at her collarbone. "If it's not such a big deal, then you've got nothing to hide. Go on. I'm not gonna move unless you show me."

I was kind of worried that she'd just stomp around me and completely ignore my empty threat, and she looked as though she wanted to say more as she gritted her teeth, but to my surprise, Clementine closed her eyes and shook her head. I didn't make a move or do anything other than bite my lip as she eventually let her guard down. Grabbing the collar of her long-sleeved purple shirt, Clem yanked it away as I winced. The burn, if you could even call it that, was bigger than I had realized. The bottom portion was hidden by the rest of her clothing, but the thing was already starting to scab on the outside, with most of the inflamed skin looking extremely sensitive as a massive "H" was taking shape. But just as quickly as I had seen it, so too had it disappeared as she quickly covered herself up again.

"There," she bit back, wiping a little at her eyes. "Happy now?"

No witty comebacks. No snarky responses to make up for my lack of comforting techniques. I couldn't have said anything, not that I really wanted to as she turned away from me. Reluctantly, I trekked behind and rubbed my eyes tiredly, not having a clue where to go from here.

It was a branding, there was no mistaking it anymore. There wouldn't have been a firm shape in there if it wasn't. And it wasn't as though I could compliment her for any awesome, underage prison tats, either, not with how painful that looked. And with a mark like that, there was only one thing I could think of.

Someone did that to her.

* * *

 

I dropped an empty, used water bottle back onto the ground as I sighed irritably. Empty-handed, _again._ I didn't know whether it was karma for what I said earlier or just sheer bad luck, but this was the second makeshift campsite we had come across today, and we had nothing to show for it thus far. Not even a scrap of food had been left over.

Whoever settled here had obviously left in a hurry, what with all of the sleeping bags thrown aside in some mad dash to get to their truck, which had both of its doors wide open when we arrived. None of the lights were on inside though, and the key was nowhere to be seen, meaning at least another few miles of trudging it out on foot. Clementine was digging through the little carriage-looking thing hitched to the back of the vehicle, and although it was mostly just full of old newspapers and magazines, it seemed to keep her occupied for the time being.

Good thing, too. I was getting a little queasy from all the sideways frowns I was getting.

"Not again…" I murmured, feeling a little frustrated with the lack of supplies after how profitable my last run had been. "If this keeps up, we'll have to drink from the dirt puddles. I… don't suppose you've got a water jug in your back pocket there, do ya?"

Nothing. Not even a head shake. Either she was way too engrossed in that magazine, looking to be something about movies from what I could tell off the cover, or she was just ignoring me altogether. Regardless, it did nothing to help lighten the mood as I shut the door and leaned against the side of the truck bed.

" _Ooookay_ then…" I trailed off, leaning my head over to try and get a glimpse of what she was doing reading old magazines that weren't even relevant anymore. Newspapers were flying out from underneath the tarp in the wind, with one of them catching Clem's leg as I watched her struggle to get it off.

"Mmgh…" she mumbled as another couple flew towards her in the breeze, with one of them catching her in the face as she tried to peel away the classified section. "Umm… Jane?" came her muffled voice as I chuckled and slid some of the papers off.

Pulling it back and checking out the contents for a second, I pursed my lips and nodded my head. "Local man gets stuck in the sewer," I remarked, scrunching it up into a ball and chucking it back onto the tarp. "I didn't really peg you for the… you know, _reading_ type."

"It's not like we've got a TV around here," Clem shrugged as she put the magazine back where she found it.

"Ain't that the truth," I agreed, making sure to sling our bag over my shoulder just right so that nothing would fall out. It was getting alarmingly lighter as each day passed by, but I was reasonably confident that with enough rationing, we could stretch this out for a few more days if we needed to. Reasonably. "Gotta admit though, I think I was more of a movie gal than watching anything on the tube."

"Oh?"

"Yup. Nothing like a good sci-fi or gangster flick to get you in the mood," I explained as I checked over the gas meter and huffed. Empty, just as I figured. Wouldn't have really mattered all that much with no key, but I was kind of hoping we could maybe siphon some of it for later. "There were only a handful of Star Trek ones I could watch before getting confused, but I could watch those mystery films all day long. Indiana Jones used to kick the shit out of all the other old-school ones I used to have back then."

"What's that?" she asked, and I had to keep my mouth from gaping wide open as I turned to the girl with a shocked expression.

"Seriously? You never watched Indie back then? What kind of depraved childhood did you have?" I smirked as she tilted her head to the side in a confused daze. "Not really surprised, though. It was, err… kind of before your time. _Heh,_ I remember this one day, Jaime and I watched an entire – "

Freezing up, I stopped myself and clenched my jaw tightly; trying to blow it off by coughing into my sleeve. Trying to do so was making my stomach injury act up again, but at that moment I didn't really care. All I wanted was to…

"Who's… Jaime?" she creased her brow, perplexed as to why I had cut myself off so abruptly. But I couldn't say it, not to her, not to anyone. I couldn't dig up the past, couldn't face up to what I had done.

_…I don't care anymore, Jane._

_Bullshit! Quit being such a whiny little bitch already! Get up! Mom and Dad wouldn't have wanted you to just sit around and –_

_They're dead. We are too. Why bother fighting it anymore? I'm just… tired. Leave me alone, already._

_That's not happening! God damn it, Jaime, can't you just listen to me for once?!_

_Go away. I'm not… not moving._

_…I'm NOT leaving you to die like this! Fucking… just…_

"…we need to keep moving before the sun goes down," I stated, mentally kicking myself as I choked on the last bit of the sentence. It was impossible to avoid her questioning looks, but I turned away anyways and started heading towards those old train tracks I had seen earlier. With a little luck, we might've been able to find something we could scavenge out of. Based on our track record today, however, that chance was looking pretty slim. "C'mon, then. Let's hit the road. I'm… getting kind of sick of these campsites, anyways."

I wasn't a fan of how she lingered by the truck bed, her arms folded across her chest as she eyed me carefully up and down before sighing and pushing herself off. She was giving me the stink eye at least a dozen times a day ever since our little… _misunderstanding,_ when I came back from scouting that day, and as much as I probably deserved it, the constant glares were kind of getting on my nerves.

"Problem?" I challenged as she brushed by me and hopped over a small, metallic fence and landed clumsily on the other side.

Dusting the dirt off of her jeans, Clementine shrugged her shoulders and spotted the tracks I had seen earlier. "You'd just think it's stupid," she replied as we continued to walk side by side.

"What is?" I prodded as the tracks started to become more and more visible. If there was some kind of issue between us, I didn't want to have to keep guessing as to what it was every time we went anywhere.

Tilting her head back and closing her eyes, I saw a pained expression filter across the child's face as she shook her head once again. "Do you remember when… when you asked me if I had any friends out looking for me?" she questioned as we passed by a road crossing alongside some of the old railway tracks. "Well… that's _kinda_ true, at least."

"Kind of?"

"I'm the one supposed to be looking for _them._ Not the other way around."

So _this_ must've been the thing she'd been worrying about the entire time, and why she'd been looking so squeamish ever since we teamed up a few days ago. Made sense, I supposed. Being a young kid and everything, finding her group members probably would've been the first thing that came to her mind.

It wasn't necessarily a great idea, though. I would know. Things like that… they just never ended on a happy note.

"We umm, got separated a while back," she told me, fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt as I raised an eyebrow in her direction. She was lying straight through her teeth, but I made no comment on it. If she wanted to have her own reasons, then by all means, she could. Secrets were probably one of the few things nobody could take away from us. "There were a bunch of us, almost ten, I think. We were spending a couple of days at this ski lodge up in the mountains, and… w-walkers came over."

"Was it part of that herd we saw before?"

"…no, I just… I got caught up in that," she explained, making it painfully obvious that there was more to this than she was letting on. Upon noticing my questioning stare, she continued to share her story as we noticed the tracks splitting off into two separate paths. "Left or right?" she wondered aloud as I placed one hand on my hip. Hmm… branching out to the right might've lead us to the next town over, but I knew for a fact that staying on the left would at least keep us close to the main road if we were to get lost. Choosing to pick the more reliable option, I shrugged the strap of our bag across my shoulders as we continued our backpacking trek down the left railway track.

"We all ran in different directions. It… it was just _crazy._ One second we're eating these peaches and beans, and the next…" she continued as I took every word she said with a grain of salt. "The place was powered up by these giant windmill thingies, and I guess the noise must've drawn them to us. There were too many to deal with, and we didn't have enough bullets to put them all down, so we just decided to go. I got split up from them and… yeah."

Bending down to tie up the lace on my boot, I felt Clementine hovering over my left shoulder as I stretched out the kinks in my back. "Hmm… with a place like that, I'm surprised you wouldn't try to just lead them somewhere else. You don't get too many places with electricity these days," I remarked as she rubbed her arm in discomfort. "But if you were looking for your friends," I suggested with a hint of doubt, "then why did I find you in Howe's? Were you sightseeing or something?"

Seeming to pick up on the fact that I was onto her little game, Clementine gulped nervously as we started to see a fairly decent-sized object in the distance, stranded on the track as I shielded my eyes from the sun. It was difficult to make out exactly what it was from here, but thanks to the cloud cover, I could at least see that it had somehow been toppled over onto its side.

"…it… was a big store. I just figured somebody might've found it, too. Besides," she pointed out with a small frown, "you said it already, right? There aren't a lot of supplies anymore. I thought it might've been a good place to start looking."

"…so you're telling me that you were in there, carving that walker through the stomach and looking like you'd just seen a ghost, because you were _scouting?_ That's what you're going with?"

"That's what happened. So, yeah."

"Really?"

"Yep," she insisted hastily as I rolled my eyes when she couldn't see me. Normally, I wouldn't really give a damn about her straight-up lying to my face. That was her business, and if it helped her sleep at night, then all the power to her.

But there were more holes in her story than a fucking slice of Swiss cheese. First off, if she got chased off by the dead, then why the hell was she sporting a freshly-made branding? Unless the walkers suddenly learned how to start using tools, or her friends were just giant douchebags, then I'm pretty sure somebody else was responsible for it. Secondly, the girl had _no_ supplies on hand when I spotted her in that trash room. None. Zero. Zilch. And judging by the way she was going at it, I'm pretty sure that grabbing bullets, weapons and other bare essentials was going to be the very last thing on her mind.

I took out my knife as we got closer and closer to the object at hand, thinking about the last strike against her shitty narrative. Those people I had seen when I first arrived… they were _definitely_  there beforehand, and from what I could tell, there was definitely a larger group living under Howe's roof before those walkers closed in on them, too. The chances of Clementine sneaking into the building without anyone coming across her, through a damn _herd_ no less, were staggeringly low. Sure, she could elude me pretty darn well if she wanted to, but with the mental and physical state she was in, I'd just as soon picture her paralyzed with fear on the ground as to making any stealthy entrances.

"Huh," I said simply as we pushed our way forward. That thing we had seen earlier turned out to be some kind of old boxcar, with the wheels and axles all rusted to shit as it was laid out flat on its side. The side door still seemed to be intact, but prying that thing open would take a lot more muscle than just me. "Well, I've gotta admit. This is a new one," I commented as Clementine walked up beside me. "Ever been on a train before, Clem?"

A pained look traveled across her face for a brief moment, as if recalling a past that she'd soon rather forget. "…one time."

"Got one up on me, then. C'mon, give me a hand with this thing."

Doing as requested, she shuffled over beside me as I pressed one hand against the door handle, but I stopped myself as I heard a familiar growl coming from the other side of the boxcar.

"Ah, shit," I groaned lightly, as sure enough, a walker had been trapped underneath the massive weight as the entire lower half of its body had been trampled on. Somebody had likely thought it'd be a funny joke to cut off the walker's arms as they laid motionless beside the beast's thrashing jaw, but all it came out as was twisted and messed up. I was actually feeling a little bit sorry for this guy, but one swift strike to its rotting brain kept it from snapping its teeth at me any longer.

Clementine looked a little perturbed by the whole thing as I frowned in her direction. Dammit… I was so used to her being able to handle herself with all of the survival tactics and everything that I forgot about how this shit might still be affecting her. I wasn't exactly immune to this type of thing yet, either.

"Look… I'm sure he died before… before this," I pointed back towards the corpse, "happened to him."

"You don't really believe that."

"Better than thinking about it too much," I replied as she reluctantly nodded her head. "Trust me. It's a lot easier to make up positive things in your head than to constantly remind yourself that there are dead guys walking around. Just… try not to think of them as people, okay?"

I hated seeing this kid down in the dumps like this, I could admit that much now. Seeing her constantly depressed face somehow grow even sadder whenever crappy things like this turned up was a difficult thing to watch. She was tough, but everybody had their limits. Survivor or not, Clementine was a human being just like the rest of us.

And due to the hardships we'd faced over the past little while of travelling together, I thought the least I could do would be to pass down some of my knowledge down to her. I wasn't exactly the best at doing all of that nurturing crap, but I could at least give her a few pointers.

"Lemme see that hatchet of yours real quick," I said suddenly, confusing her as Clem reluctantly handed it over. Planting a firm grip on the handle, I lodged the sharp edge into the sliding latch on the boxcar door and beckoned for her to come over. "Might as well see what goodies we've got in here, huh? Alright, on my go…" I grunted, flinching a little as I felt her shoulder brush up against my arm. On the count of three, we pulled as hard as we could; managing to only open the door a smidge as we stopped to catch our breath. "Where's a damn tow truck when you need one…" I huffed, eliciting a tiny chuckle from my little compatriot as I grinned and started pulling it again. This thing was heavy as hell.

By the time we got the door halfway open, we had found the culprit. A woman was hanging by her neck from a belt that was tied to the side door; a suicide attempt likely from her not wanting to starve to death in a locked, lopsided boxcar as I gritted my teeth. Both of the girl's legs had snapped in two, with parts of her shins and the top of one of her kneecaps piercing through her rotted skin as her body dangled in a circle. The woman must've been in here for quite some time, since the walker she had transformed into barely made so much as a growl as we opened the door. The smell was almost unbearable, but the few half-opened boxes down below might've had some pretty useful stuff inside.

"Remember – they're dead, we're not. Let's try to keep it that way," I wearily reminded her even though I was having trouble looking at the sight myself. I wedged out the hatchet and was about to swing downwards, when once again Clementine volunteered to do the deed herself.

The first swing managed to slice the girl's ear clean off. And then another swing. And another. And another. By the time she had finally managed to hit the girl's brain, her sweatshirt had dark red spots covering the front of it, and the walker didn't resemble anything close to what it had looked like before.

"It's alright. It's done," I told her as she shuddered and wiped the side of her mouth with her arm. I couldn't help but be a little worried at how long it took for her to kill that thing, though, at least for her own safety. "Y'know, that hatchet seems to get stuck pretty easily. It's… well, you just can't afford to let that happen, you know?" I ended on a softer note, not wanting to scare the daylights out of the girl even more today by suggesting she could be killed at any time.

"Well… what would work, then?" she inquired as I scanned the surrounding areas.

"I've got a few ideas," I said as I, unfortunately, burdened myself with the task of hauling the corpse off of the belt and out into the dimming sunshine. Wiping my hands on the grass, I peeked into the caboose to check it over once more, and nodded my head. "Might as well stick around here for the night. Any more walking and I think you'll try to bury me into the pavement."

Seeming to agree with that, Clementine reluctantly climbed into the side of the door; gagging at the horrible smell coming from every nook and cranny, but I could tell that she knew it was necessary. I was silently grateful that I didn't have to keep prodding her into doing what had to be done to survive. For the most part, she just went along with it without complaint. Certainly made things a lot easier on my part.

"Just sit tight. I'll be back in a few. Anyone else tries to come in here, then… umm… hide, I guess," I told her sheepishly, wondering just how many times she had to do that sort of thing over the past couple of years.

* * *

 

"You're not seriously asking me this right now, are you?"

"Why not? I never went, and I just thought that… well… "

"Clem," I chuckled, striking the end of my newly-carved spear with the side of my hunting knife, "I don't think I've been to college since… oh god, what was it? Seven years ago? Eight? I can barely remember what I had for breakfast yesterday morning, let alone what I did as a freshman."

"Huh?"

"It's what they called the new people who got in, the guys who just started going," I clarified with a smirk, stretching out my legs as I stared up at the night sky. As crappy of a sleeping area as it was, the view was pretty decent, and the company was… _something._ "Anyway, I only went for one year, so I don't know how much help I'm gonna be."

Sitting up and crossing her legs as she played with the string of a yo-yo she had found buried in one of the boxes, Clementine arched her neck. "Why just one year?" she asked as I sighed deeply. Ugh… recalling those younger years was never a pleasant experience, especially with the way that it ended with my parents.

Mom and Dad knew I could be a real piece of work, what with the "bad-ass" stuff that my small circle of high school friends used to make me do in order to try and fit in. But honestly, I had the same opinion of them most of the time. I tried on several occasions after my abrupt exit from the dear, old family home to come to terms and bridge the gap between us, but apparently even Washington, D.C. wouldn't cut it as a suitable distance from my house. Late night calls with Jaime usually ended in me choking up and having to hang up the phone far too soon, or it would conclude with a bubbling sister begging me to come home through the speaker.

I thought I had wanted that lifestyle. The idea of living on my own after putting up with the bullshit at home seemed like a dream come true, and at first, it totally was. I learned skills that I had no clue I even possessed, and although even to this day my cooking usually ended up far too dry for my taste buds to handle, the fact that I could do that myself gave me this feeling of independence that I never wanted to let go.

Only when Jaime would call or visit me every few months or so would I realize that I was far more alone than I really cared to be.

"I, uh… dropped out after first year."

"Dropped… out? Like…?"

"Let's just say that Georgetown U no longer had need of my services."

"Oh," she said simply, looking as though she wanted to change the subject somewhat. However, her curious mind continued to test my own knowledge as she pried deeper into a past that I had mostly chosen not to remember. "What were you studying there, then?"

I had to think back on that one, scouring through the memories of a different time; simpler in some ways, but even more complicated in others. Once I finally figured it out, I chuckled in spite of myself. "You're gonna think this is so dumb…" I forewarned, almost feeling as though I was being judged by the girl as she patiently waited for my answer. "It was… well, a visual arts program. You know, drawing and painting, shit like that."

I was waiting for it – the laughing, the teasing about how stupid I was for even considering to try and pursue that as a degree. Almost everyone I talked to said I was wasting my time back then, that I should've been going for some business program or some other snooze-fest classes so that I could actually end up with a job at the end of it. If I had managed to stay home instead of getting kicked out onto the street, then that's likely where I would've ended up, too. But fuck 'em. I didn't care what they were telling me. None of that shit was who I was, or what I wanted to be. Even Jaime told me that I should've at least tried to go for a few computer classes or something on the side, just so I could polish up the old résumé and show any future bosses what a "respectable, hard-working sack of shit" I could be.

"That's… that's really cool, actually."

Needless to say, I wasn't expecting anything like that as I darted my head back towards the little survivor in the corner of our shared boxcar.

"What? You mean… really?"

"Mhmm," she nodded her head, a ghost of a smile plastered on her lips as I widened my eyes. "I used to spend whole days up in a treehouse back home just making pictures. TV shows, animals, friends… family… Just stupid kid stuff," she trailed off, the tone becoming a little somber as I focused on sharpening the wooden stick to a sharper point. The thing was essentially a giant stick sharpened to look more like a pencil, but without any bullets or a gun to our name, having a makeshift weapon in a pinch would be a big help. "What did you used to make?"

"Me? Well…" I stalled, feeling a flush of humility coming over me as I called back to my creative days. It was such a short period of my life, snuffed out early on after losing the financial support for going to class, but I could still recall some of my old designs hanging up on the walls of my one-bedroom apartment in downtown D.C. "I was kinda big into the modern stuff. You know… cities, nature, buildings, that kind of thing… Hey, don't give me that look! It wasn't all boring!" I exclaimed as Clem snickered quietly to herself. "I used to do a lot of sci-fi things, too. But… I think my favourites were probably the comic books I used to help make."

Perking up a little at that, Clementine took a bite out of some of her rations for the evening as I started trying to jab the thin air with the wooden spear; another finished one sitting idly beside me on the floor of our compact shelter. "I had this buddy of mine back in college. Real nerdy kind of guy, but we lived in the same apartment building, so it made sense to hang out a little bit," I elaborated, placing the second spear down and feeling slightly proud of myself for making something that might've ended up saving our lives. "Anyway, we had some class on creative media or some shit, I don't remember. Prof was up his own ass about almost everything he ever talked about, but he gave us this project where we got to make a little comic strip about anything we wanted."

"What was yours about?" she asked quietly, seeming to have calmed down considerably since this afternoon.

"We called her _Captain Moonshine._ Heh, I still can't believe I remember that part…" I mused, lost in my own little world of super heroes and no outside responsibilities. I used to stay up for hours each night trying to come up with better and more life-like designs for her, never being fully satisfied with it even after the deadline for the assignment approached. "She was supposed to be like some kind of super hero, using the power of her fists to beat criminals into submission. And every time she'd get one arrested, ol' Cap would take a swig of moonshine from her belt."

"That just sounds… _gross._ "

" _Heh._ Yeah. Yeah it probably was," I smiled, the first genuine smile I had given Clementine ever since this whole mess began. "Thing is, though, she secretly _wasn't_ a super hero at all," I explained wryly. "It was all an act. Her super-powered fists? She jacked a pair of brass knuckles from her grandpa's basement after his street fighting days. She was really just a raging alcoholic, making up this game in her mind of bringing in the bad guys for the cops, even though the police were constantly looking to bring her back to the drunk tank."

 _That_ got her going, as I could hear a series of snorts coming from the girl in the corner, likely covered up by her hand on her mouth. I couldn't see her tiny frame in the inky blackness of the boxcar, but I could tell that even among all of this death and craziness, that she was smiling, too. If only temporary, I had to admit – that might've been the nicest sound I had heard all day.

 _Hmph._ Turns out Clem had a sense of humour after all.

"Hey," I whispered softly, taking out a tensor band left over from a half-removed first aid kit we had found in one of the boxes as I tried to feel my way around. Accidentally tapping onto the brim of her hat as she no doubt scowled at me, I could just barely make out her face as I presented the object in my hand. "So… I know you weren't feeling too hot about me doing this earlier, but…" I sighed, waiting for an argument that surprisingly didn't appear this time around. "Do you mind if… well, if I try to…?"

I could hear her shallow breathing as the crickets chirped at us from outside, but after a while she grunted and lowered the collar of her shirt to hang just off the side of her shoulder. Taking that as the only acceptance I'd likely get, I nodded and tried my best to at least wrap it around the sore area. It was difficult to see if I was aiming the thing properly in the dark, with almost no light source whatsoever besides the stars and the moon, still covered by a thin layer of clouds as they floated across the night sky.

_"Mmf!"_

"Ah shit, sorry, Clem… Should only be a little bit longer, though. Try to suck it up."

"Easy for you to say," she mentioned hoarsely, whimpering every time I had to apply pressure to the burn. "You kept swearing every time I had to pour that water on your belly…"

Snorting at that, I went to wrap the bandage under her arm for another round of layering. "Yeah? I didn't really notice all too much."

"You said fu… the _f word_ … like ten times that day."

"That's all, hmm? Guess I'm getting sloppy, then," I grinned, trying to find the pin that had come attached to the tensor band so that I could tie up my masterpiece. Honestly, it probably looked like a complete mess, but as long as it covered up the wound and held together long enough for it to heal, then I was satisfied.

As she watched me finish up, eyeing my handiwork carefully as I tried to be as gentle yet firm as I possibly could, I could just barely make out her biting her lip. "So… I was thinking… maybe tomorrow we could start looking for them?" she suggested, not needing to go into specifics as I knew exactly what it was she was asking me to do. "It's just, well… I stopped for a while when we left the hardware store, and I _really_ need to find them again. You'll help me though, right?"

Managing to find the metallic clip as it reflected the dim light from above, I fastened it securely onto the tensor bandage and lifted the collar of Clem's shirt back up to the usual level. With my work done, I stood up and grabbed onto one of the spears I had meticulously crafted like some cavewoman out in the wilderness.

"Jane?" she called out my name again. "Did you hear me?"

"I'm gonna take first watch. Who knows what might try to sneak up on us out here," I told her without missing a beat, snatching up some of the vegetables as I took a bite out of a celery stick. "Just get some rest – let that burn heal up, and don't try to itch at the bandage or anything. I'm not resetting it again."

Climbing up to the top of the flipped boxcar as I slid the door open some more, I almost made it all the way outside before a scathing tone reached my ears.

"I can't _believe_ you right now!"

"…Clem, you know that'd be a waste of time."

"Just because you want to be alone for the rest of your life doesn't mean I have to!" she exclaimed, stunning me a little bit as she rose to her feet. "My friends are probably out there right now wondering where I went, and I'm _not_ gonna stay here and – "

"Would you keep it down, already? Geez, we're already almost out in the open as it is!" I retorted, spinning around after I wrenched the door open with some force. "If your crew's really out there somewhere, then running around like a couple of chickens with our heads cut off would be a stupid idea. And somehow I doubt any of you came out here with a tracking signal for each other."

Leering at me, the girl folded her arms across her chest and shook her head in disgust. Clem was _fuming._ "I knew you wouldn't care… Figures. The only time I bring them up, and you tell me to forget about them and leave my friends behind!"

"Hey! I never said that at all!"

"That's what you meant! Don't try to tell me you didn't!"

Stifling my pride back down my throat and keeping my cool, or at least _trying_ to, I leaned against the door and tried not to look her in the eye. Okay… so maybe heading out and looking for a bunch of people I didn't know wasn't exactly high on my list of priorities, but could she really blame me? After what happened with that group I had seen out in the woods and what became of them, I really wasn't too keen on the idea of staying in this state any longer than I had to.

That was it. That was how I'd do it. If I was ever going to be able to convince her that this was a bad idea, then coming clean about what happened was the only option.

Taking a deep breath, I switched gears and decided just to go for it. After all, what was the worst that could happen? "Even if we were to go look for your friends, we'd be putting ourselves at risk. That's not a smart way to live, Clementine. You don't…–" I stopped myself, recalling that day as if I were reliving a nightmare. "Look, Clem," I turned towards her, "I never told you this because I didn't want to frighten you or anything, but there are fucking _psychopaths_ out here. I watched a guy hold a group of hostages together and murder one of them without even batting an eyelid. If we stay out here, we might be the next ones on the chopping block."

Stubbornly shaking her head, Clementine refused to accept my answer. "People are crazy _everywhere!_ It doesn't matter where you go!"

"Finding your friends is a shot in the dark! Literally! Do you even have a clue where you'd start looking?" I questioned as she closed her eyes and a tiny sniffle came from her side of the corner. She had stopped listening to my excuses almost the moment I started talking.

Having seen that there was almost no way I was going to turn around and change my mind, Clementine slowly shuffled backwards until she backed up into the compartment wall, sliding down the scuffed-up surface as she brought her knees up to her chest. I winced as she let out a shaky gasp of air, looking defeated as she lightly brushed a loose brand of hair out of her face.

Knowing that I could either climb outside and leave it at that or try to find a way to reach some common ground, I took a step down from the frigid night air and landed with a thud; the impact leaving a soft echo in our metal box of the evening.

"Hey… Clem," I tried, wondering if she was thinking about all the nasty little insults she could come up with to tell me how horrible of a person I was.

Instead of doing any of that, however, she studied my pitying look with distaste as she whimpered once and doggedly wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. This wasn't looking too good for dear, old Jane. More likely it'd be dear, old _departed_ Jane in a few minutes, by the sounds of it.

"You owe me," came her quiet announcement, her gaze finding mine as I felt myself glued to the floor of the boxcar.

_"What?"_

"You left me out there alone to _die,_ " she accused, her voice containing a seething rage that only a girl of her stature could produce, "and then I saved your life. Twice, if you count that cut you got. You owe me for this. Unless you just plan on leaving me again…"

I didn't know what to say. I was floored out of my damn mind that she would use something like that against me, all in some sorry-ass attempt to get me on board with this ridiculous plan of hers. For some reason I felt as though I was being betrayed – as though I had put my trust out on the line for a girl that I barely even knew, and that _this_ was how my faith was rewarded. We were two different people, and I knew that. My whole "go-it-alone" attitude clashed with her "your-friends-are-important" one, but I didn't think she would hold this out against me. I didn't even know the kid was even capable of keeping a grudge like that.

I let my arm fall lazily down to my side as I pursed my lips. "A-are you… are you _blackmailing_ me?" I demanded, my suspicions confirmed when she didn't even try to respond. "So… what then? Was this whole trip just a big sham? Just a way for you to get even with me when you needed it?!"

Her stern gaze seemed to falter at that, but right then I didn't care. I just needed to get out of there as soon as I could. Suddenly it was seeming a little stuffier than usual. "Jane… no, wait…"

"Forget it," I cut her off, snatching the spear I had dropped and huffing out in frustration. "Better get up bright and early then. I'd hate to avoid the disappointment when we find their bodies in the bottom of the fucking river."

Climbing out through the top, I left just enough room open for her to barely see out of before climbing down and sitting beside the corpse of the hanged walker we had taken out earlier. All the while, I tried to tune out the soft whimpers coming out from the boxcar as I rubbed my face tiredly in my hand.

What a fucking day.

* * *

 

Things had gone quiet over the next couple of hours. _Real_ quiet. I'd hear the wind howling as it blew over the abandoned farmers' fields across the tracks, along with the occasional hoot of an owl, but at that point even the crickets had stopped tuning out their little hymns. I hadn't seen any walkers all night which I had counted my blessings for, but they were always around. And all of this alone time to think was probably doing more harm than good.

 _Goddamnit_ … She was right, in a way. Clem didn't say it out loud, but she didn't even have to. I was being a selfish prick, in more ways than one. Expecting her to just stop caring about the people she was with altogether at the drop of a hat was unreasonable, but I couldn't bring myself to climb back inside and give her an apology.

The both of us just needed our space. Probably. Yeah.

She must've passed out sometime during the night, since I could hear her laboured breathing every now and again whenever I listened hard enough. The soft hum had lulled myself pretty close to sleep as well, but whenever my head was about to fall forward, I'd immediately shake myself awake once again. Night watch was horrible if you hadn't gotten much shut-eye recently. Don't get me wrong, I was used to going day-to-day with three to four hour powernaps instead of going into a hibernation of sorts, but one of the beauties of having another person around was that I didn't have to constantly keep a weapon hugged to my chest as I did so. It made things a little easier that way. Too bad everything else just got a shit-load more complicated.

I would've killed for a smoke right there. Hacking darts as a young adult was, for better or worse, something that could help me relax when figuring shit out for myself was no longer a feasible option. To amuse myself for the time being, I had plucked out a straw I found across the train tracks and pretended to smoke it every now and again; blowing out into the cool night as my breath appeared in front of me.

The fact that I could see it at all was starting to get a little alarming. Chilly days and freezing nights? Fall was ending, and soon enough, the icy grip of winter would come. And I had _no_ intention of waiting out the next few months buried under a thick blanket of snow.

What perfect timing to head out and look for people who might as well be dead. If they were as unfortunate as the ones I had seen back at Parker's Run, then they'd probably end up _wishing_ they were dead. Fuckers like Bill always gave me nightmares.

Stretching my arms up to the sky and shuffling over to give my back a much-needed break, I contemplated on just chugging it out and letting Clem sleep for a few more hours, when I started to spot a light in the distance. It was faint, but with the way that it was moving around on the ground, I knew right then and there that it was a person. _Two_ of them, in fact, as I spotted the silhouettes of both a woman and a man walking along the same train tracks that Clementine and I had walked down earlier.

And that could only mean…

"Shit, shit, shit!" I hissed, scrambling to find the wooden spear and slide open the door to the boxcar. Clambering inside, I stumbled in to find Clementine waking up from all the commotion.

" _Mmmf_ … Jane? What's…?"

"Shh," I hushed her, forcing the spear into her hand and practically shoving her to the very far wall of the room before sitting right up against her. "…keep it down, alright? We're not alone…"

I'd already taken out my knife before coming down here, but as I heard the hushed voices of the two strangers as they approached our hiding place, I cursed my luck as I spotted the other spear just sitting idly next to our rucksack.

 _"Can't believe we're out here doing this shit,"_ came the first voice, a deep, reserved tone that definitely belonged to the guy I had spotted earlier. "You know we're basically handing ourselves over to these guys now, right? I can't be the only one seeing the bigger picture here!"

"C'mon Mike, you know that ain't true."

Clementine seemed to widen her eyes at that, but muffled indignantly as I placed my hand over her mouth to keep her from blowing our cover. Honestly, I don't think the kid even knew the meaning of the word. _Subtlety_ was something she really needed to start working on.

"I just don't understand why you keep defending him…" came Mike's weary reply as I used my left foot to try and move the spear out of sight somewhat. The bag was gonna be a bit of a challenge, but somehow I managed to get the strap to wrap around my ankle as I tilted my head towards the opening of the boxcar. The two of them were literally right outside, with their flashlight flailing around in search of whatever it was they were looking for.

"It ain't about defendin' anyone! You know that," she lightly scolded, her voice sounding more exhausted than angry as I felt somebody lean against the metal frame. "Look… he didn't have a choice, but we did. If they'd just waited it out a couple more weeks, then…"

"You really think it would've made a difference if they were out of the pen? Besides, Bill never would've let that kid go…" Mike sighed as I stopped myself for a second. Bill? As in… No, it couldn't have been. Would've been way too much of a coincidence, that the person they're talking about was the exact same nutjob I found out in the woods. Besides, even if it was, none of that would've mattered to me. All the more reason to avoid these people, if it were. "You saw that damn look in his eye… _Jesus._ All that time cooped up in his office must've rattled his brain around."

"Maybe… Then again… oh, nevermind," the other one replied solemnly, and I had to practically shove my fist in Clem's mouth to keep her from speaking at all. I honestly didn't know why she was fighting with me on this so much, but I wasn't about to allow us to be at the mercy of two people who may or may not have had fully loaded weapons at their disposal.

When the flashlight turned away for a second, and the two of them focused on the dead walker I had left outside, I used the chance to try and scoop both of the items over towards us; knocking over one of the boxes in the process as I cringed and pressed myself as well as Clementine even farther into the wall.

"What was that?"

"Hmm? What's up?"

Every breath I took sounded a thousand times louder in my ears as I kept holding onto the girl beside me. Jesus fucking Christ. Despite being pressed up against the wall as far as we could go, and me feeling the edge of some plastic thing sticking out of our rucksack as a slow whirring sound came to life inside of it, I had never felt so out in the open. We were essentially defenseless, camped out in a metal bucket with no way out other than the entrance guarded by two heavily-armed survivors. If we somehow got out of this mess alive, I was boozing myself up at the first bar we came across – dead guys inside be damned.

"Could've sworn I heard a noise just now…" Mike whispered, his shadow reflecting off the interior as he shone his flashlight into the boxcar. "Hey Bonnie, did you check this out, yet?"

I heard some shuffling as Clementine's cheek brushed up against my jacket, and I held as still as humanly possible when Bonnie stuck her head in through the doorway.

"I'm thinkin' yer just gettin' jumpy again. It happens," she chuckled lightly, patting Mike on the arm as a sliver of the light source caught my boot. I snaked my leg back uncomfortably before anyone could see me, though. "C'mon, now. Ain't nothin' in here but junk, anyways. Paranoia's been gettin' to everyone lately."

Clementine's heart was racing against my stomach as the flashlight left the boxcar, but that didn't stop me from staying right where I was as they continued to chat right outside. Fucking leave already!

"There's a pretty good reason for that, if you ask me," went Mike's tired reply. "…seriously though, Bonnie… We could just go. Right now, no questions asked."

"You can't be serious right now!"

"I'm dead serious! How is this even a discussion? This guy's fucking crazy! Who knows what he'll do next!"

"I don't think I need to remind ya of our _friends_ back there, Mike. We can't just up n' abandon 'em, not while they're all still there!" she pointed out as Clementine thrashed under my grip. I was getting seriously confused with everything going on, though, and the more that I listened to them, the more I wanted to give my head a shake. "Look, once we've found a new place, n' things have settled down a twitch, then… we'll talk about it s'more, okay? Can you give me that much?"

I heard a soft chuckle rumbling from deep within Mike's sternum as he sighed. "You sure it doesn't have to do with old Casanova back there, hmm?"

"Mike, _please_ … that's not – "

"Right, right. Yeah. Sorry... too soon?"

"Too soon."

I'm surprised that Clementine didn't suffocate underneath me with the way I practically had to smother her, but after waiting for about ten more minutes or so, trying to ignore the kicks to the shin she would give me every time she tried to escape, I finally rolled off after making sure that neither of those two were in sight.

Breathing deeply as I climbed outside, shutting my eyes and leaning against the boxcar, I reveled in the cool breeze coming through my shortened hair as Clementine practically stomped her way past me.

"God damn, that was close…" I murmured, adjusting the strap of the rucksack as I noticed her walking down the same path Mike and Bonnie just took. "Hey, get back here! Clem!" I hollered, jogging up to her and snatching onto her wrist. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Following them! Or at least I _would've_ been if you hadn't gotten in the way!"

"Okay, just _calm down_ for a second here, alright? What are you even talking about?"

"Bonnie and Mike! I know them!" she steamed, trying to break free from my grasp as I eventually just let her go.

Tentatively, I placed my hands on my hips and arched a brow in her direction. "So… those two were your friends, then?" I asked, noting the way she hesitated before nodding her head vigorously. "Okay then," I doubtfully started, "wanna tell me why they were talking about some crusty, old asshole as if he was the end of the world? Your story's not really holding up, Clem."

"…I don't have time for this, Jane."

"Bullshit! And even if that were true, you trying to go off in there like a damn hyena wouldn't have made things better!" I mentioned, watching her anger plummet to the ground. "Walkers? Bandits? If you gave away our position just now, we would've been dead meat! That's no way to find your friends."

Clementine's shoulders sagged, murmuring to herself as she unconsciously reached for the spot of her shirt where the bandage was. Playing the bad cop wasn't going to win her over. After all, what self-aspiring pre-teen wants to get lectured by anyone about _anything_ at all? I'd become invested in this now, delving into much more drama and mystery than I had ever wanted or was comfortable with.

But I wouldn't leave. Not this time, not when she clearly needed somebody the most. And even if I wasn't going to be her number one pick for that role, I figured that I'd have to do for the time being.

After all, apparently I "owed her", remember?

"…if I'm gonna help you find your buddies, then I can't be in the dark on this, Clem. Not anymore," I told her, bending down to her height level as she stared right through me. "Just… start over again. What aren't you telling me, and why do I get the feeling that this is somehow more than just a herd of walkers?"

Whatever it was that was going through that girl's mind, I could tell she was hurting really badly. Every time I even brought it up, there was this distraught look in her eyes, and her whole body would clench up into a ball. But when she refused to spill the beans to me, whether out of fear or something else I wasn't sure of, I dipped my head downwards and stood up straight.

"If they were heading that way… I think Charlotte's pretty close by. I'd imagine we'd be able to catch up to them there. Sound good?" I suggested, offering up her spear as she shakily grasped it in her hands. "Alright, then. Let's get going. Don't want anyone else to come and sneak up on – "

_Bzzt! Bzzzt-Bzzzt!_

The both of us searched all around, checking the fields for any signs that somebody had been following us other than the two we had just encountered a few moments ago. Back to back, Clem and I frowned deeply as we held our weapons out in front of us; armed and at the ready.

Nothing was out there, though. Not even a walker for as far as the eye could see. Mike and Bonnie had disappeared out of sight, and no other survivors were within spitting distance.

_"…Who's on this line? I can hear you loud and clear, you know? So you might as well come clean."_

"Where's it coming from?" Clementine whispered as I frantically threw off the rucksack, realizing exactly what the problem was as I dove my hands through the remaining contents. "Jane? What's going on?!"

 _"…well I'll be damned,"_ crackled the voice as a hoarse laugh came on through the other side. _"Clementine, is that you, sweetheart? It certainly has been a while. Now, don't you think about hanging up on me just yet. We wouldn't want Nicky here to become even more crippled than he already is…"_

Dropping to her knees without even caring about the jagged rocks below that surrounded the train tracks, Clem watched helplessly as I pulled out one of the damn radios I had taken from Howe's back then. That noise in the boxcar must've been one of us accidentally switching it on when we were hiding the bag away.

Shit!

 _"Clock is ticking there, hun. And you might want to play along – I don't think Nick's going to be much use with another bullet in his leg,"_ he cruelly suggested as I finally plucked the stupid thing out and went to flip open the battery casing for it. That is, until a loud scream from the other end of the line came pounding through the speaker.

_"BILL! STOP IT! HE'S HAD ENOUGH!"_

_SMACK!_

_"I'll be the one to say when he's finished there, Luke. Now… where's Bryan?"_

_"His name is AJ you fucking son of a bitch!"_

_"_ _Pretty sure the custody battle is over, Bec. Alvin's not exactly in a position to protest, either. Troy, keep your gun aimed at Kenneth over there. I don't want any of these ingrates wandering off again,"_ Bill warned in a gravelly tone, and my skin crawled as I recalled the intimidation tactics he had used before. If there was ever any doubt as to who he was before, it was all but erased, now.

I took one look at Clementine's outstretched hand, a look of desperation and sheer terror in her eyes as I shook my head.

"Don't even think about it, Clem."

"We don't have a choice…" she whispered, the both of us trying to keep our voices down so that he couldn't hear what we were saying. And if either of us turned it off… "G-give it to me. _Please_ … it… it's my fault they're with him. With Carver. I have to do this…"

"He'll _kill_ you!"

"And they'll die if I don't say anything! I can't… I c-can't let anyone else die because of me…"

My blood was running cold as I clutched the stupid hunk of plastic in my hand, hearing nothing but static for a while until "Bill" or whatever fucking name he was going by spoke up once again; humming the theme song to the Jeopardy game as if he was taunting the both of us.

 _"I'm giving you to the count of three,"_ he said, the cries for help in the background making it seem like his threat was the real deal. _"Clementine, if you don't give me an answer by then, we'll have to make things more difficult."_

_"DON'T YOU FUCKING HURT HER! HEAR ME, ASSHOLE?!"_

_"Oh I do, Ken. Loud and clear. But honestly, how fucking dense do you have to be?"_ he mocked as Clementine covered her ears and gritted her teeth in anguish. _"I thought you'd have learned after Sarita that crossing me was just a stupid idea. Guess it's going to take some more… seasoning with you."_

"Jane… Pl-please…"

 _"Final warning! What's it gonna be, Clementine?! Talk to me right now and rejoin the community,"_ Carver barked as a knot formed in my stomach, _"or I'll do to Kenny here… what you did to me."_


	5. Concede

"Jane, _give_ it to me!"

"This is stupid! Don't throw your life away because of some asshole making threats!"

"I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for them! Letting them die is _stupid!_ I have to do this!"

Growling in the back of my throat, I let my finger glaze over the "talk" button on the radio as I heard the static whizzing on the other side. Carver couldn't hear what we were saying anymore after I had put the radio on silent for the time being, and as much as I wanted to yank out the batteries and toss the thing twenty yards down the railway tracks, it wasn't my call. Clementine had to make this choice, I couldn't deny her of that. Not when it was dealing with hostages that were obviously close to her.

I should've just left the stupid thing well enough alone, but I had no idea that _Bill_ of all people would've had an extra set with him. I didn't even know another set existed, for that matter.

It was weird, though. For some reason, I couldn't bear the thought of watching the kid give in to this guy, acting all selfless and whatnot just so that her friends could have a shot at getting out of there alive. It was _infuriating._ I couldn't believe she was willing to do that for people who, although I wasn't certain, might not have done the same for her.

We had a system going now, and it was working fairly decently. Sure, our last argument didn't pan out so hot, but this whole "duo" thing we had wasn't becoming as much of a burden as I originally thought it was.

And now, to see it all potentially thrown away on a whim… my hand still wouldn't let go of that damn walkie-talkie, clutching onto the thing for dear life.

 _"…nothing, huh? Now that's disappointing,"_ Carver mocked, a faint clicking noise in the back of his throat cutting over the speaker as who I could only assume was Nick yelled out in pain once again. Tears sprang into Clementine's eyes as she rushed towards me, begging for me to give in as she tried to beat her tiny fists on my abdomen.

_"Oh my god… Bill… please don't…"_

_"Nick! You're gonna be alright, man – just… just hang on!"_

_"Kenny's next, Clementine! Talk to me right now, or else. I'm a man of my word,"_ snarled Carver over the speaker as I glanced down upon the girl's face, quaking in desperation as I felt my grip on the radio lessen. Letting my arm slide down to the side, I held it out in front of me as I watched Clem grab onto the thing as if it was a bomb.

I didn't want to witness her throw away her life like this, so I sighed and retreated back into the boxcar; making sure that we hadn't forgotten anything important before venturing out into unknown territory. No point in leaving anything for the walkers, and it's not as if the scavengers would leave anything behind for _us_ if the roles were reversed. I usually didn't get bitter about that sort of thing, since I likely would've done the same if I was down to my last can of food.

The first cracks of sunlight were starting to creep their way across the horizon, appearing almost as if they were just waking up with the rest of the world as I stepped out of the boxcar again. Nothing else worth taking, unfortunately, and depending on what Clementine's response was going to be, it might not have mattered regardless. I gulped down the last bite of celery that I'd saved myself from last night, the only ration I forced myself to keep until noon later today, and glanced over at the young girl. She seemingly hadn't moved from where I'd seen her, having shut her eyes tightly and shuddered before pressing onto the button.

"…w-what do you want?"

 _"…seems like you're getting off easy today, Kenny-boy,"_ chimed Carver as we heard him shove the guy to the ground with as much force as he could muster. We could hear the beginnings of some kind of struggle from the other end, but it was quelled almost as instantly as it happened. _"Glad to see you're being reasonable this time, Clementine. Although, after the way you fired off that pistol, I suppose anything's an improvement,"_ he goaded, even somehow making my own anger rise with every word he spoke. I felt my grip around the spear tighten as I tapped Clementine on the shoulder, motioning silently for the two of us to hit the dusty trail as we followed along where Mike and Bonnie had left.

The regret painted onto Clementine's face as she released a pain-riddled frown was easy enough to spot as we walked side by side, but I doubted any of that remorse was intended for this douchebag.

 _"But it's not about what I want. It never has been… it's about what's_ owed," he emphasized. I wanted to tell Clem to be cautious around this guy, to try and help her find the right words to say that wouldn't put herself into an even deeper hole than I had likely gotten her into, but this was her show. I didn't have to know the guy personally to tell that Carver wouldn't appreciate another person stepping in and shitting on his parade, either. _"And after you helped leave Howe's in such a sorry state, I don't think you're in any real position to argue with me."_

"Did you hurt any of them?" Clementine asked as I inwardly cringed, for once knowing more about this whole affair than her.

It went quiet for a little while on the other end of the line, a cough escaping from Carver's raspy throat as Clementine knitted her eyebrows together. _"Nothing that they didn't deserve,"_ he responded as I whipped my head around, finding it increasingly difficult to keep from snatching the radio back from her grasp and chucking it as far as I could throw. _"But as long as you come back to the group and rejoin our community, we'll sort out your mistakes in no time. You can earn your way back into the fold."_

If there was a category for "abuser of the year", this dude would win it in a landslide. The classic signs of hurting someone, blaming the victim and then supposedly forgiving them for their mistakes were all there, and Clementine was feeling the brunt of it. Biting her lip, I heard her breath get even shallower as we walked towards the end of the railway track. A faded sign was blocking off the rest of the path, likely put there because of construction back in the day, but we didn't need much more confirmation to get where we were going, anyways. Up on this hill, we could make out a once-prosperous city in the distance, now largely quiet with many of its buildings still ominously intact.

Thinking that bringing up the fact that one of the people in her old group got killed would be a bad idea, I simply patted Clementine's arm and guided the two of us over a rusty guardrail down to the residential areas below; thankful that we were both wearing jeans as she accidentally brushed up too hard against the metallic surface. Getting an infection from the rust would've been almost as much of a death sentence as a walker bite without proper medical treatment.

 _"Where are you right now, anyways?"_ Carver asked as we came upon the first house we'd seen.

"I… I don't know…"

_"Approximately, then. Where were you headed before?"_

"Th-there's some kind of city nearby," she explained anxiously, obviously not trying to give too much away but really having no choice. "…I think it's called Charlotte, or something."

 _"…alright. Shouldn't be much of a problem, then,"_ Bill surmised as I peered into the front window of the suburban home, seeing nothing really of use as I tried my hand at the front door. Locked as usual, and there was no way of me getting up to the second floor without pulling off some serious climbing maneuvers. With my recent stomach injury, I wasn't really feeling up to the task that day. _"There's an old business complex in the middle of downtown. Big, tall buildings with bank logos on them? Can't miss it,"_ he explained as I planted a seat next to Clementine on the front step of the porch. Folding my arms together, I stared at the ground and tried to get rid of the growing feeling of dread in my stomach. _"Meet us there by the fountain over on Tryon Street. Come by sunrise tomorrow morning, and come unarmed. If I see so much as a rock in your hand by the time we get there… well, you should know what happens, then."_

She glanced at me as I tried to shake my head, but she simply rubbed her eyes with her index finger and her thumb, pressed the talk button, and spoke into the receiver.

"…okay."

It seemed there was no talking her out of it.

_"CLEMENTINE, NO!"_

_"ENOUGH! Troy, gag him. If Kenny so much as utters another word by the time we get there, I'll cut out his fucking tongue myself,"_ Carver vehemently snapped as Clementine pleaded for his case. _"Don't worry your little head about it, sweetheart. Do what needs to be done, and we can start our relationship off right once again. I'll meet you tomorrow morning."_

The air grew deathly quiet as Carver signed off, leaving the two of us to sit in silence as Clementine switched off the radio.

* * *

 

A lone walker stood unchecked as it loomed over an open garbage can, filled to the brim with trash that had been left out for far too long. The bags inside were ripped open to shreds, with mold and a various assortment of maggots sprouting out, and from the depths of the bag laid the corpse of a young raccoon. The walker was digging into its meal with a thirst for blood and meat, digging its fingers into the matted fur as the once-fuzzy, little animal stared up at the sky with wide, unmoving eyes. The little guy didn't have a chance in hell once it was discovered, as not even its warning snarls or exposed fangs could make any difference to a hungry creature prowling the streets of the city.

The thing was too busy smacking its decayed lips on the flesh of the mammal to notice a little girl creeping up behind it, both hands gripped around a spear as she got within a few feet of the target. Upon my insistence, she kicked out the back of the beast's knee, watching it clumsily fall forward onto the garbage can as the girl gagged at the site of the half-eaten raccoon falling out into the alleyway. Face down and incapacitated, the walker had no hope of redemption as the girl struck; slamming the pointy end into the back of its skull as the dark blood oozed out from the impact. With a sickening squelch, she twisted the weapon around once before quickly yanking it out, wiping the substance onto the walker's torn shirt before I joined at her side.

"There ya go," I praised lightly, rolling the undead man onto its back as I turned my nose away from the smell. "They're not always gonna have their back turned towards you, but take out the easy ones if it's safe enough. How're you liking the knee thing, though?"

Nodding her head with a strained smile plastered onto her face, Clementine helped me check the guy over for anything useful as I patted down his pockets. This person had been a survivor not too long ago judging by the skin colour, and judging by the lighter I found in his jeans, he might've been a smoker, too. It was a pretty cool thing to do sometimes, trying to figure out what they were like before they died… if a bit morbid, perhaps. "It's pretty useful," she responded simply, to which I was inclined to agree.

"I thought so, too. It's just the little things, y'know? Stuff like that so you don't have to waste bullets all the time," I recommended, flipping the lighter on a couple of times to make sure there was enough fluid inside. Satisfied for the time being, I pocketed my catch and looked past the dumpsters towards the end of the alleyway.

Noticing what I was staring at, Clem rubbed at her arm as she slowly rocked side to side on her heels a little bit. "Do you think it might be quicker to go that way?" she suggested, even though deep down I didn't think either of us were really in a hurry to get to our destination this time.

"Hmm… I don't think that's a good idea. Too risky. Not enough exits to get out of," I said with a grimace, trying to sound less pessimistic than I knew I could become. "It's just easy to get trapped in places like this. Honestly, I'd rather just avoid cities altogether if I could, but…" the conversation went cold, with me trying to die it down as Clementine stared off into the street from where we last walked down. "C'mon, then. Better to keep moving in a place like this."

Cities had become a nightmare early on after all of this shit went down. Everybody had been running in all sorts of different directions, many trying to head back to their families, others trying to get to military "safe zones" in some vain hope that somehow the armed forces would be able to do something about it and save all their lives.

I'd thought the same thing myself, at first. Jaime had suggested it initially, of course, having seen some greasy-looking reporter on a third rate news station claiming that everyone should head to their nearest evacuation shelter for food, supplies and a place to sleep for the night. I guess nobody could really know that those places would become feeding grounds for thousands of starving walkers, but back then, nobody knew jack shit about what was really going on. How could we? Nobody told us.

Highways were a hotbed for traffic, with miles of jams on either side that seemed to stretch on forever. Once people started to turn, there was nowhere for the stranded people to run to, unless they either tried to climb over hundreds of others who were just as helpless and frightened as they were, head to the forests, jump off the bridges, or try their luck somewhere else. It was all a massive pile of craziness, and with Jaime and I caught right in the middle of it all, we were forced to –

"What's that?"

Pointing over to the left as we strolled past a pair of decrepit, unresponsive street lights, Clementine spotted a rectangular building with an old sign that was only held loosely attached by a few strings of cable wire. _Wally's_ was emblazoned on the crest as we approached the entrance, passing over an old mail box that had likely been torn apart by looters back when there were still people to write home to.

Glancing up at the second floor windows, I turned back to the girl with intrigue. "What? Never seen a used clothing store before?" I asked with a hint of amusement, figuring that she would've visited something similar with her family at one point or another.

Clem shrugged her shoulders before trying her hand at the door. "I dunno… just didn't think I'd see it still standing. And without walkers," she added, doubt adorning her troubled mind as I nodded in agreement, stepping over shattered glass with the spear still firmly in my hand as we heard a _crunch_ with nearly every step.

"Ditto," I told her, "but let's not assume anything yet. Never know if they might be stuck in between any of these shelves or something," I advised, scouting through some of the cupboards with interest. Most of the good stuff would likely be long gone, but with a little digging, there might've been a few things people had missed.

Wally's had been ransacked, just like pretty much every other store and building in every city or town I went to had been. It was usually the same deal, smartasses thinking they could get away with stealing all the expensive shit without getting caught by the cops, who were all too busy either trying to keep the peace or running off with the crowd. Too bad the robbers didn't clue in that it'd be a waste of time anyways, seeing's how most of the stuff they were stealing would become useless almost a month onwards. Diamond rings weren't worth as much as a hot meal or bullets, these days.

There weren't just clothes in here, apparently, as I accidentally stepped on a picture frame with the default stock photo of a family of four still placed inside of it. Nearly all of the glass windows had been smashed to pieces except for one, which held a poster on the outside telling the passersby that the place would soon be going out of business. Not for us, at least, I thought to myself, ignoring the old plastic toy sets in favour of one of those camping flashlights that my parents used to keep in the garage. These things would last for a week straight if you wanted it to, but without a battery there wasn't much use for it.

"Do you think a lot of people got out in time?" Clementine asked me as I grasped onto the handle, deciding to bag it anyways in case I happened to find a working set of AA's later on.

"…no idea," I admitted, glancing only once as she started tracing her finger over a shelf lined with old video cassettes.

I could tell that she couldn't recognize any of the names as she scrunched up her face at the titles. She sneezed softly as the dust reached her nose. "I kept thinking people might've, for a little while, anyway. There wasn't really much else to hope for," she told me, as if lost in another world. "It was always easier to just… _pretend._ I thought that maybe if I could just try to be nice to everyone in my group, and wait until everything was back to normal, then I'd be fine. But…"

It was a little off-putting, seeing her being so melodramatic, but the odd thing was, I could kind of understand where she was going with this. Figuring that a couple of shot glasses would likely just get smashed in the rucksack if I placed it with everything else, I made a disappointed pout before placing them gingerly back on the shelf. "You couldn't be a kid forever," I pointed out, watching her nod in acceptance even though technically she hadn't even hit puberty yet, let alone adulthood.

"...guess not."

"That's a good thing. Sucks, for sure, but," I trailed off, sighing as I spotted a rotting corpse lying beside one of the cash registers as I poked it through the eyeball for good measure, "you probably wouldn't have made it this far if you didn't change. You look like you know what you're doing, for the most part."

She grinned lightly at that, a half-smile and half-frown that I couldn't quite place the source of. "I didn't do it alone," she mentioned, trying to gauge my reaction as I headed over to the other side of the first floor. I tried my best to give away nothing, but felt the corners of my mouth tug down slightly at her insistence of group-togetherness.

I couldn't buy that line, but I knew that expecting her to follow blindly into what I was telling her was probably just as wrong. She knew that the question was hanging on the tip of my tongue the entire walk over here, as to why she'd give in to Carver's demands and not just avoid the whole confrontation altogether. But I didn't ask it, never spoke the words I'd been dying to get out. Honestly, I wasn't so sure she'd want to listen to it, anyways, so I wasn't going to try.

"Now here's the bad boy I was hoping to see," I smirked, heading off through a section of empty coat hangers towards what I had been looking for since we walked in. Clementine watched me leave, hanging out near the broken escalator before pointing upstairs.

"I should probably start checking this stuff out," she called to me, but I was too fixated on my find to turn around, so I simply nodded my head and gave her a thumbs up over my shoulder.

"Alright… now what do we have in here?" I thought aloud, brushing my fingers along the side of the lid in order to find a way to open it. A large, red donation box was sitting on the side, with the names of various locations painted on it to indicate the various spots these used clothes were going to. Philadelphia, New York, Boston, Pittsburgh… Apparently these guys liked to travel long distances to deliver the donations to kids and adults in the big cities.

I didn't really care about what it said on the tin, though. The inside was the prize I wanted to peel open, but by the time I had managed to get the cover lifted off, I once again came up woefully short. Most of the shit was gone in here, too, with only a few scraps of linens and half-torn baby blankets remaining in the dirt-riddled compartment. A stupid-looking ski jacket was sitting at the bottom that was too small even for Clem to fit in, as well as one winter boot that I knew would be a waste of time to pick up.

Discouraged, I was about to close up shop and join Clementine upstairs when I spotted the clothed finger of a glove sticking out underneath the ski jacket. Curious, I leaned over the side and carefully lowered half of my body inside, nearly falling in face-first as I brushed the ugly jacket out of the way. Sure enough, a glove had gone unchecked inside, along with its partner not too far away. One of the gloves had a hole in one of the fingers, but I paid it no mind. With how cold the nights had been getting recently, any warmth at all was probably going to be a big comfort.

There really wasn't anything else down here that I could write home about, but I wanted to give the place a second look-over while we still had time. Although, a darker part of my brain was telling me that doing this kind of foraging would likely only benefit me, seeing's how Clementine was basically giving Bill the go-ahead to make her his willing prisoner.

I was about to scan over those old hangers again when suddenly, although faint from down here, I heard a quiet growl and a yelp of surprise coming from upstairs. Almost instantly fearing the worst, having flashbacks of my recent close encounter with those walkers that nearly killed me a few days prior, I sprang into action; knife at the ready as I bounded up the stairs two at a time. Clem, although tough as nails when she had to be, was definitely not immune from getting bitten, and I wasn't just going to sit by and let that happen to her.

Though I couldn't really understand why I was chugging upstairs like there was no tomorrow, or why the worry had churned my stomach so much.

By the time I had spotted her, turning to the right as I ran towards some kind of lounging area, Clementine was already sparring with one of the undead. The creature was a few inches shorter than she was, and I froze up for only a second as I watched her grapple with it. A kid… _again._ God dammit… I could've sworn that I had _just_ gone through with this a little while ago, and yet here I was, squandering at the sight of a dead girl just because it reminded me of…

 _Fuck._ I could be such a damn hypocrite sometimes.

Clem had managed to shove it back towards a window on the second floor, only avoiding its snapping teeth by shoving it back with the shaft of the wooden spear. She almost lost her footing as I swallowed my fear and slowly tried to trudge towards the squabble, but by the time I felt my legs come back to me again, Clementine had already stabilized herself.

Shoving the walker against the window, she let out a guttural yell before thrusting the monster forwards; shattering the glass as we watched it sail downwards and crack its head open on a fire hydrant down below. I couldn't tear my gaze away as it laid still, with the blood slowly turning the bright red paint darker as the liquid oozed along the side of it.

Gulping, I quickly shut my eyes as I finally came to, turning towards Clementine with concern. "You alright?" I asked, looking over her arms as she struggled to catch her breath. Shock, I guessed, but it would probably wear off soon. "It didn't bite you or anything? I, uh… heard the growl and thought… well, anyway… you good?"

"Y-yeah… I'm fine," she insisted with a wave of her hand. "Just… got the jump on me, I guess."

Figuring that she might've needed a little bit of breathing room, I scanned the rest of the top floor for any more of our ghoulish friends that might've caught on to all the commotion up here, but so far all I could see were some dingy-looking plastic tables, an old welcome mat that looked as though it hadn't been washed in centuries, along with a fake fern tree with all of the trimmings surrounding it; a bead of lights strung around its branches in one of the tackiest displays I had ever seen.

There was a distinct smell coming from somewhere inside, though. And, to my surprise, it wasn't the usual foul odor I was used to. It was more… pleasant, maybe? I couldn't really tell, but like a hound, I tried to follow the source while also keeping a watchful gaze on Clem.

She'd leaned up against the table, practically dragging herself over towards one of the chairs as she plopped a squat and coughed into her sleeve. Seeing your life flash before your eyes was never a fun way to spend your morning, but I had a feeling that the cumulative effects of all the shit she was going through, and what she was _about_ to do, were probably messing with her head.

Plucking off her hat and running a hand through her hair, Clem caught me staring at her as I let out a sheepish smirk.

"So it _does_ come off once in a while," I teased, pulling out my knife and trying to jam it through one of the wooden cupboards that was locked up tight. "I was starting to think that thing might've been glued to your head or something."

" _Heh_ … yeah. Just… it feels kinda wrong to not wear it all the time."

Figuring that it must've had some sort of special attachment that I didn't really want to barge in on, I nodded towards her to change the subject. "Smart haircut, though," I acknowledged, watching her grin in appreciation as she thanked me. "I hated having to do that at first. Always thought that I looked – "

"Like a boy?"

Chuckling that she seemed to have thought the same thing, I dipped my head and grunted as I started jabbing the blade through the wood. Wouldn't be much longer, now. "Pretty much, yeah. Sure beats having it land in my face all the time, though," I admitted, reminded of my teenage years when I had actually tried to dye it blue for about a month. It went about as well as could be expected.

Clementine watched me work from the table, folding her hands together and resting her chin on top of them as she tilted her head slightly. "I can't really picture you with long hair," she admitted as I pressed my weight up against the hilt of the knife.

"Well, it's not like I had it down to my ass," I joked, about to comment further when all of the sudden, after a couple more jabs with the weapon, I heard a swishing sound coming from the inside of the cupboard. "Oh fuck yeah…" I whispered, my eyes growing wider in excitement as I heard Clementine stroll up behind me.

"What is it?"

Taking the blade out of the wooden frame and glancing at the amazing find inside, I turned towards her and presented a brown, grainy substance clinging onto the metallic surface. "Coffee grinds," I told her, smirking as her mouth twisted to one of disgust. "Don't knock it 'til you try it, Clem. Trust me, I felt the same way at first, but this stuff's the _bomb_."

"Looks more like a dirt pile to me," she responded, giggling slightly as I feigned an offensive glance.

"I don't think we can be friends anymore," I kidded, not realizing what I had just admitted to until it was too late to reel the words back in. I felt a pang in my gut as my brain went into overdrive, snapping at me for making such a careless mistake. I couldn't get attached… I _wouldn't._ All it ever lead to was more trauma in the end, and I could tell that I had let myself get far too deep into this to try and dig myself out without any consequences.

But I saw something glimmer in the child's eyes; a glowing warmth as she shrugged her shoulders and bent down beside me, trying to help me open the cupboard as we yanked as hard as we could on the door. I didn't really care all that much as a big portion of the bag spilled out onto the floor, nor that Clementine tried to taste some of it as she put a little bit on her finger and nearly gagged in disgust. None of that mattered. And yet, all of it did.

Still, as I pondered over whether or not this was the right choice, down the line I knew it would all be for nothing. She'd be taken on by some crazed egomaniac soon enough, and I'd likely never see her again, alive or dead.

…shit. Better make the most of it while it lasted, then.

Once the haul had been dragged out into the middle of the floor, I watched silently as she wandered over towards the windowsill, sitting against the shattered remains as she gazed out towards the horizon. Deep down I think Clementine realized it, too – our time together was coming to an end. Brief as it was, I couldn't say that it had been quite as horrible as I'd immediately thought it would be.

Well… I guessed it was sometimes good to have someone watching my back. I wouldn't admit it to Clementine, though. _Tch,_ I could only imagine the smug look on her face if I relented and said something like that.

"…I guess that's where we're headed, then?" she quizzically asked, pointing off to some impressive-looking structures in the distance as I reluctantly nodded my head.

"Yep," I replied simply, trying to scoop some of the so-called "dirt pile" into a couple of plastic baggies that were also in the locked cupboard from before. Whoever was working here definitely had their priorities straight, even though the whole bag was decaf. I had to crane my neck a bit to see, but Clem had perched herself up onto the windowsill; one leg draped over the side of the building where the window had smashed, with a forlorn look of doubt crossing her lips.

I didn't really have to take a guess as to what was on her mind, but I figured that letting her make the first move would be a better idea. After all, it was still _her_ decision in the end, not mine.

Gathering up as much of the grinds as I could and spreading it out evenly in the clear, plastic bags, I placed them carefully in the rucksack and quietly walked up behind her, staring out at the same buildings she'd pointed out earlier. A few massive cranes stood beside them, holding metal support beams that hung loosely in the wind. Clearly some of them weren't finished, and judging by the gaping hole in one of the buildings, I suspected that something must've gone terribly wrong. An overpass leading into the downtown core was really the main thing standing in our way, but for once, it actually didn't seem to be crawling with undead or clogged up with vehicles.

A part of me kind of wished it was.

"I didn't think you'd come with me," she softly mentioned a few moments later. "I mean… Carver doesn't know you or anything. You didn't have to stay. You could've left a bunch of times."

Great. _This_ again? I thought for sure that we were past this sort of thing, but apparently that little squabble we had last night was still lingering in her thoughts.

I'd been bitter about it initially, having stewed out on watch as the girl snoozed inside of that boxcar. But after coming to terms with what was really going on, and why she'd had the daylights scared out of her, I was feeling guilty for even thinking that way in the first place.

"Don't sound so miserable about it," I smirked at her hesitance. "As much as you might like, you can't get rid of me that easily, Clem."

"I thought that's what you wanted, though..."

Faltering, I tensed up as she tried to probe me for answers that I wasn't willing to give. She knew what I thought about this whole ordeal, knew that I was uncomfortable with the idea of giving myself up to a person who could bash a kid's face in and realize he could sleep at night. "Doesn't really matter what I want now, Clem. What's done is done," I sighed, wishing more than ever that we could come up with a plan to get us out of this mess. But I was fresh out of alternatives. "Besides," I continued, reminded of Clem's outburst yesterday, "a deal's a deal, right?"

"…y-yeah… sure…" she stuttered, trying not to look deflated by my comment as she put on a brave face. I frowned as she went to stand up, faking a smile in my direction as she asked if I was all set to go. Reluctantly nodding my head, I watched as she padded down the stairs, looking from behind as though I'd just plunged a dagger into her heart.

Feeling very unsure of myself, I rolled my eyes and huffed, following the girl down the steps as we made our way out into the daylight.

Was it something I said?

* * *

 

 _Crap,_ I thought to myself, frustrated as we hit another road block so to speak on the way through the city. There might not have been as many cars on the road as there were before, but apparently that didn't stop the city itself from falling apart at the seams.

Nearly every street corner we passed contained the rotting corpses of Charlotte's citizens, and those that didn't were often littered with piles of litter and debris. It was kind of amazing just how quickly everything fell apart without people around to maintain it, and although it was usually a depressing reminder of what a bustling city life used to be like, it was also a little mesmerizing. On several occasions I found myself just staring at the carnage, fascinated by how far this place had fallen. It reminded me of my apartment in DC, back when everything first started to turn to shit.

But this right here was going to be a bit of a challenge. The armed forces or the cops or whoever must've set up this part of Charlotte as some kind of military checkpoint, complete with a metal detector, floodlights, a full-body scanner… realistically, it seemed like whoever worked here had just stolen a bunch of shit from an airport and placed a set of them all across the street.

That's not what I was worried about, though. The big gate stretching out behind it, complete with barbed wire, bloody hand prints and the scalp of some unfortunate survivor hanging off of a hook, was way more concerning.

"Think we should knock first?" Clementine suggested sarcastically, trying to play the grisly scene off with some humour to mask the bubbling fear beneath.

Snorting at that, I walked sideways through the metal detector and out the other side, half expecting the thing to start making those weird noises which used to freak me out as a kid. "So long as you're the one doing it, and not me," I joked, eyeing the massive construct with doubt. "This is a little weird, though."

"What is? I just think the whole place is creepy."

"Sure, yeah. But…" I hung back, tilting my head to the side as I lightly tapped the fence with the side of the spear, "I thought for sure that we'd have seen somebody in here by now, or at least _heard_ them on the other side."

Clem appeared at my side a moment later, face flushed as I heard her stomach rumble lowly. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Trying to open the gate was pointless, as the whole thing had been locked away by a thick, aluminum chain that wrapped around the handles of the slowly rotting wood. There was no way my knife was going to get through solid steel. "Maybe. Maybe not, though," I surmised, looking upwards as I noticed a bird caught in the middle of the barbed wire; its left leg snapped as the sharp edges had pierced its lungs. The little guy looked pitiful, and I breathed a sigh out through my nose as I realized what it had been doing up there in the first place – trying to get to its hatchlings, three of which had also met a similar fate. This was starting to look more like the gateway into hell than anything else. "Who knows what could be in there?"

Thankfully Clementine didn't seem to notice the birds, instead walking down the line to examine more of the gate herself. Stopping close to what looked to be some kind of spiky pole, Clem wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she forced herself to turn away.

"We need to find a way through. See what you can find, alright?" I hollered over, not liking our chances – err, _Clem's_ – if we couldn't get past this. It was already well past mid-day, and the thought of having to do this in the dark wasn't something I was looking forward to.

"Isn't there another way?" she asked. "Aren't there other streets we can take?"

Shaking my head, I tried not to let the exhaustion of the past week cloud my mind as I grimaced. "This is the only way I know. If we take this road, we should be able to hit the main plaza pretty quickly. I went here once with J-"

Choking up again, though not nearly as much as before, I tried to avoid eye contact as Clementine hesitantly walked towards me. "…Jaime…?" she tried, wincing as I frowned deeply and sharply sucked in a breath of air. Even hearing the name sometimes felt like a shot to the back of the head. "S-sorry… I didn't mean...-" Clem stopped herself, looking incredibly remorseful as she too lowered her gaze to the pavement. "It's just… you were saying all that stuff before… and I kinda heard you… talking about her a few times, in your sleep."

Fuck... all this time I thought that I'd been careful with it, that I wouldn't break the mold and reveal what I'd been holding back for nearly a year. It was way easier to just let it bottle up inside when I'd been alone, but now that somebody else was wandering around with me, not to mention the fact that she kept reminding me of my sister every time I looked at her, that bottle had started to overflow.

Chewing my lip until I could taste a thin coating of blood on my tongue, I tried to keep my composure as I opened up for the first time in... well, I didn't even know at this point. It had been so long...

"She..." I stammered, trying my best to keep it as nice and short as possible. "J-Jaime... she was my... _sister._ "

"...oh," she squeaked out, rubbing her scrawny arms to try and retain some manner of warmth. "So... did she...?"

Slowly nodding my head, I watched Clementine's gaze trail down to her boots as she kicked lightly at the dirt.

"I'm sorry," she told me sincerely, "That'd... be really hard. I... I know what it feels like," she added, staring up at me with eyes that had seen too much, "to lose people you care about."

Slouching as my shoulders slumped down, I rubbed my face tiredly; already deciding that I hated doing this. _Laying all my cards on the table._ It didn't ever matter who I was talking to, whether it was back in the day with Jaime or my close friends, or even this little girl. Talking about personal shit sucked, and usually only managed to ever bring two things – mockery, which made me want to curl up into a ball and die, or sympathy, which I wanted about as much as a hot knife to the throat.

I wanted to brush her off, tell her to just forget I said anything and leave it alone... but something about what she said, how she'd been through this sort of thing before... Usually it was fake, and I could instantly spot out a liar when I saw one. After all, I'd more or less perfected the technique. But with Clem... it was different. She didn't even need to admit that she'd lost important people in her life. That came off her in waves – in every sad glance, every time she had to do what was necessary to survive, no matter how fucked up it might've been.

I couldn't help but wonder if it broke _her,_ too.

"Let's look for a way inside, hmm?" I intervened, wanting to focus on the task at hand instead of dwelling on the past. "There's gotta be an opening around here, or something we're just missing. I'll take a look on this end."

"…umm… yeah, sure. Alright…" she acknowledged, giving me a few more saddened looks before walking over to the left; working her way around a bike rack to see if there were any weak sections of the gate.

We left each other alone for a while then, keeping quiet save for the occasional rattling of the fence as Clem tried to push one of the beams and I tried to shove my shoulder into the side of it. Nothing was working, and this was our only avenue. I really wasn't amazing at directions to begin with, and to try and go down a bunch of side streets to get to the fountain would likely only get us lost, not to mention that this might've not been the only military checkpoint we'd come across if we were to travel elsewhere. Hell, I barely even remembered if _this_ was the right way to get there.

Were it not for that wire at the top, I could've simply planted my knife into the wood like a mountain climbing hook and climbed over, and I was about to look for something else to use when I spotted Clem taking a few paces back. "What're you thinking?" I probed, finding it a little cute as she rubbed her chin in thought.

Glancing up at the side, she pointed to the apartment building that ran a long distance down the street. "Maybe we could try to get to that ledge," she suggested, showing me the rim that hung just below the windows. It wasn't too high up, but still far too tall for either of us to reach on our own.

I wandered over towards the corner, where Clementine sat with a goofy smile on her face as she placed herself behind me. "Clem? What are you – _OOF!"_

Grabbing onto the back of my jacket and yanking herself up, I gawked at the nerve of the girl as she told me to lower myself down some more.

"Oh, fuck no! Get off, kid! I don't do piggyback rides!"

"How else are we gonna get up there? Boost me up!"

If it were any other occasion, I probably would've tossed her off without a second thought, but I begrudgingly agreed, seeing that all of our other attempts had failed so far. There really wasn't any room for me to have a say in this, anyways, since Clementine was already halfway up my back before I could even blink.

Grunting as I felt her shoes digging into my shoulders, I tried to hold her steady as she prepared for her ascent. "Clem, I swear to god, if you break my back, I'll never forgive you," I warned, technically not lying in the slightest as she ignored me and peered over the fence. "See anything?" I wondered as the wind knocked over a loosely-hanging branch onto the front windshield of a car behind us. The noise was enough to startle the both of us, but I managed to keep the girl's balance as I firmly grasped onto her shins.

The longer she stood on me, the more irritable I became. Apparently I'd somehow magically turned into a bus today, and Clem happened to think that she could hop on board for no fee whatsoever; loitering above as if she was the queen of the world.

Annoyance gave way to confusion, however, as Clementine grew quiet looking over the fortifications. "What's up?" I inquired, wishing that she would just grasp onto that ledge already so that we could get this over with.

But she wouldn't answer, instead peering down at me with a haunted turn of her head. "You're sure there's no other way around?"

Groaning, I tried in vain to get the aches out of my shoulders that were surely to come. I'd be feeling this in the morning. "Nope, this is the only way. Now c'mon, before you turn me into a hunchback," I tapped on her leg, encouraging her to climb up as she sighed deeply.

"…alright," she relented, tossing her spear carefully near the first window as she struggled to reach the rim. I kind of had a hankering to tease her about how short she was, thinking that it'd be doable with her unwarranted climb on top of a very disgruntled me, but instead I used that energy to try and push her forwards. Clem's legs squirmed from underneath as she finally got a hold of it, apprehensively standing up again and pressing her back against the concrete. "Okay… how're _you_ getting up here?"

"Working on that," I answered, knowing fully well that Clem wasn't strong enough to yank up a fully grown human being on her own. There weren't any ladders around, and unless I somehow magically turned into an NBA player, there was no way that I was going to jump and reach that height, so that was out.

Perched up against the wall, however, was a rickety-looking drain pipe that might've been able to do the trick. Placing one hand over top of it, I shook the thing a couple of times and winced at how easily the pipe was coming loose. This was gonna be an adventure and a half.

Planting my foot firmly on the bottom, I pushed myself up and tossed the spear over to Clementine for safe keeping. "You sure that's a good idea?" she questioned, wandering over as she tried in vain to keep the metal from giving out any further.

My legs felt wobbly as I tried to climb, grasping on for dear life as I could feel my body start to slip up. "Probably not, but it's worth a try," I told her, looking up towards Clem as she held out a hand for me to grab on to. "Ok… you've gotta be really balanced on there, Clem. I'm probably heavier than anything you've had to carry before."

"Maybe if you eased up on the rations…" she teased, cracking a smirk as I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Totally _not_ what I meant."

"Uh-huh."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"You said it, not me," Clem replied as I rolled my eyes in amusement. The kid was good. _Real_ good. And it kind of sucked that, deep down, that wit really didn't come out more often, not that she really had the chance to let it show from time to time anyways. I found myself drawn to it, wanting to hold onto that bright personality and never let it leave her.

Unfortunately, that was kind of hard to do when I realized that all of this effort was going towards some asshole who didn't deserve the time of day. I imagined that the fun tended to stop whenever Carver entered a room.

My fingertips brushed against Clementine's for a split second as I heard a low groan underneath my weight, with the drain pipe sagging downwards as I let out a cruse under my breath. "Quick! Reach!" she pressured urgently, and I did as suggested as I practically launched myself forward; nearly bringing myself and the girl both tumbling down to the asphalt when I grabbed her hand. We both crashed into the wall, breathing heavily as I pressed my hand against Clem's chest to keep her from falling off.

"Well…" I gasped for air, letting the back of my head hit the bricks with a resounding _thud,_ "that probably could've gone a little better."

"Yeah… at least we made it, though."

Glancing down at my normally-troubled companion, I nudged her in the shoulder as a few small beads of stone crinkled off the ledge surrounding us. "Since when did you start turning into Little Miss Sunshine over here? All hopeful and stuff."

A weak smile appeared on her face then, shrouded only by a thin layer of sleepiness hidden just beneath the surface. Clem probably hadn't had a good night's rest in years, but as usual, she never voiced these concerns. "It comes and goes, I think," she freely admitted as I chuckled a little bit. "It's better than being miserable all the time. I hate doing that."

"You're wise beyond your years, kid," I nodded, staring back out across the street as I set the spear down on my lap. In an effort to catch my breath, I resorted to watching as a ripped grocery bag floated away in the wind; rolling over the pavement without a care in the world, and joining into a cluster of fallen leaves that were forming a sort of "mini-tornado" right in front of our eyes.

"…this helps, though," she spoke up again, surprising me as I figured she had nothing left to add.

"Hmm?"

"Being out here. With you," she elaborated, staring up at the clouds as if she was watching an airplane fly by. "Kinda helps me take my mind off of… _things."_

It was a weird feeling, right then. Pretty shitty since we both knew how this would end, but not so shitty as to make things inherently awkward between us. So instead of replying right away, I took the opportunity to look out over the area we were trying to get into, and my stomach plummeted.

The place could only be described as a graveyard. Not literally, but with the amount of dead bodies strewn all over the place, some lined up neatly while others were carelessly thrown about here and there, it was the only word that came to mind. You could tell which corpses were older from the thin, white blankets covering their bodies from head to toe, tied down with a thick, yellow rope so that none of the covers would blow away in the wind. Crows were feasting like vultures on the decaying ones, with one of the birds ripping off a piece of flesh like it was a worm in the ground. A few grave sites were dug up, with some of the bodies being buried with a makeshift headstone made out of sticks, but there were quite a few empty ones, too; one of which had a man's leg sticking out the side as if the occupants had had to run away in a hurry.

Judging by the looks of things though, none of them got very far. "Sure you don't wanna just stay up here, then?" I pried, feeling uneasy as a walker with its both of its legs snapped off turned its head towards us on the ground. "I could probably try busting one of these windows. We sneak inside, kick back and relax… Y'know, I'm starting to like that plan a lot more, now, come to think of it."

"Hmm… this isn't the comfiest chair in the world," she joked as I gave a sad smile, for some reason slightly dismayed that she wasn't taking my suggestion to heart. "Besides, you'd probably get bored sitting in there all day."

"You'd be surprised. I can find ways of entertaining myself."

"Like what?"

Reminiscing on days long past, I stood up as Clem and I both started to shuffle across the window ledges. " _I Spy_ is usually a classic. Kinda hard to do when you're by yourself, but whatever," I remarked, spear back in hand as I pointed over to where we should be jumping off. "Let's see… skipping rocks was always a favourite, when there was actually a stream and no danger around. Oh, and counting. _Lots_ of counting."

"Ugh," Clem scoffed, watching my every move as I hopped off the ledge and landed on top of a set of cardboard boxes down below. "I think I'd _rather_ be fighting walkers."

Peering out over the blocked-off area, I held my weapon out in front as I scanned the place for any signs of movement. "Careful what you wish for," I whispered, beckoning for the girl to follow me as we ventured onward.

 _Eerie_ would've been selling this place far too short. There wasn't one inch of the entire complex that wasn't either covered in blood, riddled with garbage or had a body in the way. I punctured a hole through the skull of that walker I had seen earlier nice and quietly, but I was still unnerved as we rounded the corner and passed even more corpses. It almost felt like half of the state had come to bury their dead ones here. Not exactly a vacation destination if I were to say so myself.

"Creepy…" Clementine spoke out in hushed syllables, brushing a severed hand off of her leg as she accidentally bumped into me from behind. "Sorry! Sorry…" she apologized more quietly, trying her best to stick close as we inched more towards the main road. "Don't you think we should put on the walker guts? Just in case?"

" _Tch,_ you might be the first person I've met who's actually _suggested_ that," I remarked before shaking my head. "Probably not worth it, though. We're nearly there. Just gotta keep pushing forward."

"But what if we get caught?"

"Then we'll double back and cut them off from the sides. Don't worry, we've got this," I tried to reassure, and although I couldn't see her right there, I could hear a sigh of admittance as we had to make our way by some kind of old paint store. "See? There's our way out, just through that – "

Cutting myself off and staring wide-eyed and straight ahead, I didn't even care that Clem bumped into me again as I froze in place. A mountain of bodies blocked our path, with severed heads sticking out on wooden spikes that adorned the back exit for the fence as a faded sign for the dead was stapled onto a telephone pole. The words had mostly been erased, but making out the word "traitors" was plenty enough of an explanation as the quiet growls of some undead creatures reached my ears.

"Jesus…" I whispered hoarsely. I'd never seen anything like this before, with so many of the dead bodies having been burned in one massive bonfire – one last _fuck you_ to the poor bastards who had this terrible fate. "W-we should go…" I remarked, utterly lost as to why Clem simply walked on ahead of me and launched her spear into the head of one of the walkers that hadn't died for yet a second time.

My insides churned at the horrible smell, but watching Clementine scoping out potential exit points near the dogpile of bodies strengthened my resolve. Call me crazy, but I could've sworn that Clem looked _calm_ in the face of all of this. Relaxed, even, as if she'd had to do this a billion times already.

The groaning sounds that we both have become so accustomed to sprung up as we approached the site, only getting louder as I poked one of the carcasses with the sharp end of the stick. "Shit…" I murmured, darting my head to the young charge a moment later. "Get back, Clem! There's more underneath!"

Most likely having survived the barbecue session by being squished underneath the rest of their charred brothers and sisters, about five or six walkers tried their hardest to climb out and grab onto their next snack. A couple of them were stuck in between rotting arms and legs, but the other four had managed to crawl out and march towards us.

"The knees, remember? Go for the knees!" I called out, kicking one of the walkers as he toppled to the ground. No later though did the next one shamble its way towards me, its teeth snapping like a piranha mere inches from my cheek. I could smell the guy's breath as its saliva poured down its chin, but with a few shoves into the pile, I pinned the beast down and struck through its skull; grossed out as its eye got stuck onto the spear like some kind of rotting shish kabob.

With the other walker still struggling to get up, I jammed it through the beast's decomposed skull, but cursed my luck as I heard the shaft of the spear start to crack.

Clem was struggling a little bit with the knee trick, understandable given her size and relatively new adjustment to the technique, but she was nonetheless holding her own as I charged over to help. She'd already stabbed one walker through the mouth and out the other side by the time I got there, and as she planted her foot on the third walker's chest to try and pull the weapon out, I took out my knife and wrestled the fourth fucker to the ground; watching it thrash against my weight only for a split second before getting a swift blow to the brain.

Clementine nodded in thanks as she helped me to my feet, but we couldn't stop for a rest as, sure enough, the noise from our little episode had attracted some more unwanted guests from that paint store we walked by earlier.

"Why don't these things ever let up?" I wondered aloud, not caring that the front of my jacket was once again drenched in walker blood. It was usually more of a surprise when it wasn't. "No, no, no, no, no… Dammit, we're gonna get surrounded at this rate…"

"Got any ideas?"

"…just one," I replied shadily, eyeing the walker pile with interest as one of the paint store walkers put a crack in the glass door. "But you're _really_ not gonna like it."

Seeing where my cone of vision was lining up, Clementine seemed to put two and two together as she went slack-jawed. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Double-time, Clem! Climb up on top of them, now!"

"Seriously?! Are you crazy?!" she retorted, unable to believe her eyes as I pulled on the thin hair of one of the bodies and slithered over the rest. "There are still some trapped down there! What are you – "

"No time to argue! C'mon, Clem – it has to be now!" I called out, my tone only growing even more urgent when the walkers in that store had almost broken through. "They're almost here, kid! Just trust me! You have to listen to me, _Jaime!"_

Clem's surprised glance did nothing to help me recover from the fucked-upitude of what just spewed out of my mouth. I could hear her calling out my name, begging me to play with her on those warm, summer evenings when the both of us were still kids; still thinking that the world wasn't as shit as I now knew it could be.

_Let's be pirates, Jane! I can be the captain, and you can be the first… uh, the fir…_

_Ugh, would you leave me alone already? Quit being such a baby! Nobody wants to play your stupid games!_

_But… you love playing pirates… And Mommy said you'd play with me…_

_Yeah? Well, Mom lied! Like she always does… and it's "first mate", doofus…_

_So… does that mean you'll come?_

I didn't want to remember her face that day, or the way she cried and sprinted back into the house after I flat-out refused to give in. I hated remembering Mom's scolding tongue-lashing, or the way that Dad kind of just walked in, gave me a disapproving shake of his head, and walked upstairs without another word. I couldn't stand the way I glared at Jaime afterwards, hiding behind the counter with her head poking out and tears staining her cheeks; eyes wide in fear as I told her I hated her for ratting me out. I didn't mean it, of course, but that day stood out. It _always_ did. That afternoon crushed her spirit.

I was the worst sister in the world. Wasn't even close, no contest.

But I wasn't losing my mind over it. No, that much I knew for sure. It wasn't about the fact that I spent much of my childhood being a complete bitch to one of the few people who actually wanted to… _get close… ech._

Deep down, lost in thought atop a pile of dead men and women in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, I was slowly starting to realize it.

I couldn't forgive myself. For any of it. From the day she was born, to the day she died. I let Jaime down so fucking much, and my last-ditch effort to tie things back together with a sister who was better off without me now felt like a slap in the face.

"JANE!"

Blankly, I blinked a few times as Clementine made her way up the walker pyramid. She was calling out my name, shaking me on the arm with a frightened look in her eyes as the remaining walkers advanced. They'd broken through the glass door, and there were way too many for us to take on without guns. We'd be slaughtered in seconds if we tried to take them head-on.

"We have to get out of here!" Clem insisted, swiping a walker across the face with the bit of her spear as I watched it clumsily roll back to the pavement. "I… I don't wanna die here, Jane! Please…"

Maybe it was the way she pleaded, or maybe it was the resolve in her eyes that my sister never had by the end, but something finally clicked in me as I snapped out of my reverie. "…th-the fence," I weakly stated, not even completely certain that she heard me as I turned around and jammed my spear into one of the wooden planks. Bending down, I told Clem to step up onto my hand as I planted her onto the haft of the weapon. "Don't look back, Clem! Just jump!"

"What about you?!"

"I'll be right behind you, just go!"

I turned back around to face our pursuers, fully prepared to try and cut them off so as to not lead them right back to the person who'd managed to really put this whole "loner" thing into serious question. It wouldn't be putting my life on the line, since I wasn't going to let it get that far, but if that girl could get out of this in one piece, then I'd do my best to hold them at a distance.

What I _didn't_ expect was for Clem to yank back on the collar of my jacket, nearly choking me as I glared in her direction. "Clem, what the hell?! What are you – "

"You're coming with me!" she demanded, grabbing onto my wrist and trying to pull me closer to the fence. "Forget about them! We need to leave! _Both_ of us!"

"Get over that fucking fence already!"

Instead of just doing what I asked, I was baffled as Clementine stepped down from the spear and folded her arms across her chest; stubbornly frowning as I plunged my knife into an encroaching walker.

"Goddammit…" I growled, having to resort to following her demands as I placed myself up onto the spring; feeling the shaft cracking even further as we both stepped on at the same time.

Checking for the spot that didn't contain the barbed wire on this side, Clementine kicked one of the walkers in the head before climbing over, with the spear bouncing on one end as I followed close behind.

* * *

 

_Chop-chop-chop!_

Three solid strokes was all it took as I laid out the few remaining rations we had left in the rucksack. A strand of celery cut into pieces remained on the table, and I nibbled on the end of one of the sticks as the vegetable attacked my taste buds. Celery certainly wasn't the most appetizing thing in the world, and I could've really gone for some ranch dipping sauce, but tonight, after narrowly escaping death at the hands of a bunch of the undead, I figured that a little victory snack was in order.

Of course, I wouldn't have been freaking out over it if Clementine had just done as I asked, but still. Any amount of nourishment, no matter how small, made me feel as though I was eating a feast.

There were a few blueberries in the bottom of the bag too, but, much to our disappointment, were mostly squished under the weight of everything else. They were still edible, but the juice had mostly run out, leaving a shell in its place as Clem popped one into her mouth.

"Really wishing that flashlight worked," she broke the ice, adorning a neutral grin as her face was lit up by the dim moonlight. I'd placed it in the middle of the table, more for shits and giggles than anything, but if the dead could come back to life as they had, I was willing to bet that one more messed up thing might not turn the world _completely_ upside down. And hey, if I could somehow magically get flashlights to work properly without a set of batteries, then I was convinced that I'd be set for life.

Looking a little unnerved as I started to spin the knife in a circle on the table, Clem too grabbed a piece of celery and slid out of the booth.

To my left was the door to the tacky-looking local sub shop we had stumbled upon in our search for a place to spend the night. The place was named after the owner, "Emilio's", or at least that's what we thought. Scavengers had torn this place to shreds already, even going after a few of the old soccer team photos the place had sponsored back in the day. Clem had mentioned playing the sport upon entering the restaurant, recalling that as bad as it was, she still missed playing on the field. She grew a little quiet after reminiscing on the pride she'd see on her parents' faces, and how the contests to see who could balance as many popsicles on her teammates' heads was enough to bring a smile to her face. That, and apparently about an hour of time in the bathroom back home trying to get the goop out of her hair.

It hadn't really sunk in yet that I wasn't the only one who had lost people. I mean, yeah, I figured she had at some point, but it was a rare thing whenever she dug up the past. Clem seemed to be more comfortable with keeping those kinds of things tossed under the rug, and so when she actually brought up her parents for the first time, I didn't really know what to say.

On the right was the window I was staring out of, my breath fogging up the glass as I lazily doodled a "J" for my name against it. My knife, now forgotten as it laid still on the table, still had some tiny celery bits sticking to the bladed edge. Thank god I remembered to clean it off a little bit before I used the damn thing.

Clementine had meandered over to the front counter, setting her sights on one of the old-timey spinning chairs that hadn't been completely chewed up. A flash of childlike wonder graced her eyes as she spun on it slightly, listening to the _creak_ as the metal twisted in place. Before long, though, the image fizzled out. I couldn't help but be transfixed as I watched – it wasn't every day that I got to see Clem actually _enjoying_ herself, after all. You were more likely to see a shooting star on a bright, sunny afternoon.

"…you shouldn't have done that."

She glanced a little bit over her shoulder, rolled her eyes and turned back towards the front counter, staring past the toaster oven and into the kitchen behind it. I knew she wouldn't want to talk about this, but I was insistent. There was absolutely no reason for her to expect me not to bring up that incident, and now that we were safe for one of the rare moments of the day, there was no better time than the present.

At least, that's what I figured.

Sighing, I rested my back against the glass and casually placed my hands in my jacket pockets. "I'm not mad or anything," I promised, honestly not holding any ill-will towards the child as she snorted over from her spot at the counter.

"Yeah right."

"Seriously. Cross my heart and hope to… well, _live,_ I guess," came my attempt at humour, falling on deaf ears as Clem started drumming a stead beat on the table. "Look… I'm not pissed that you came back for me, as weird as that sounds. But sometimes… sometimes it's better to – "

"Stop," she tiredly interrupted, finally spinning around to face me as she shook her head. "I know what you want to tell me, but I wasn't just gonna leave you there."

Eyes lingering on an old milk crate that'd been left on the tile floor, I felt my shoulders sag as my thoughts betrayed me. "You don't always get that luxury," I whispered, not really meaning for Clem to hear that part as I caught her glancing sadly over at me. "What? You look like somebody just drove over your puppy or something."

Clementine really looked like she wanted to say something, as if it were right on the tip of her tongue, but she instead chose to shut her mouth and shrug it off. "Nothing. It's nothing," she told me with about the same believability as me whenever I tried to convince my parents that I _wasn't_ responsible for spilling grape juice all over the carpet. "Never mind."

"I can tell there's something you're dying to get out. Spill."

"It's just… back there, when… when you called me _Jaime…"_ she started off, making my throat tighten as I sheepishly turned away from her prying gaze. "I know you didn't mean it… But I kept calling out to you, and you just looked… _lost."_

Cringe-worthy was probably a better sentiment in my opinion, but nonetheless, Clementine was right on the nose. I didn't expect for her to be so perceptive of that kind of thing, or maybe it was just that I was being painfully obvious – standing up there like an idiot, waiting for the walkers to come and munch on my bones. Here I was berating Clem for not heading over the fence when I told her to, when I was probably putting the both of us in harm's way just as much, if not _more._

Unable to find my voice, I heard the girl fiddle with a loose thread on her long-sleeved shirt. "…I was just wondering if you were okay," she added, eliciting a shaky breath from my lips that Clem didn't seem to catch onto.

 _Tch._ The kid was as sharp as a whip, that was for sure. After the "incident", I hadn't ever really thought that there'd be anyone left out here to have actually filled the void that Jaime left behind. Clem couldn't ever fully do that, nor did I expect her to, but while all of this bullshit may have taken a couple of years off of my already abysmally short life (because let's be real – I wasn't going to make it to retirement age), it still felt… _nice._ Nice to have somebody there to cover you, nice to have somebody to talk to when the nights grew cold and dark.

It wasn't fair of me to compare the two – Clem and my sister. They weren't the same person, and Jaime's ghost would probably come back to haunt me if I ever even suggested having another sister thrown into the mix.

But as my glossy eyes traced over Clem's face, riddled with hesitation as she chewed on her bottom lip absentmindedly, I felt that if there was going to be anyone in this fucking world left to open up and admit my mistakes to, she'd be the best candidate.

My arms ran cold as I began, whether from my nerves being shot or the chilly, night air, I wasn't sure.

"…I dragged my sister across four states," I started, having to rehearse the lines in my head after having tucked them away for so long. "Started off in DC when it all went down. Jaime… she'd come up to visit me from our old house in Virginia."

"Oh… you guys weren't still…?"

" _Nnnah,_ I bought an apartment in Washington a while back. Let's just say… well, it was kind of either do that, or live on the streets. Didn't really feel like living in a box, so there ya go," I shrugged as Clementine nodded her head attentively. "After a while… shit just started hitting the fan. Washington was a death trap, and so was almost every other big city or town we went to. It never ended."

I still was having trouble comprehending the sudden shift from dead silence to the full-blown therapy session I was participating in, but once I got going, I was finding it almost impossible to hold it back any longer. Maybe I needed this, after all.

My eyes caught the sight of a bunch of half-baked loaves of bread still sitting in the toaster oven as I paused to collect my thoughts, all rotten after years of being exposed as the dough was turning into a yeast and mold party. "Jaime… she was never really… _built_ for this world, if that makes any sense," I frowned, reflecting on the days and nights that seemed to drag on forever. "Every morning she'd say she wasn't getting up. Every day, the same damn thing. She'd sit there, staring at the ceiling, pretending that I didn't exist," I ranted on, but upon seeing that the conversation was making my sister seem like an emotionless monster, I derailed it for the time being to try and paint her in a better light. "Wasn't always like that, though," I chuckled softly, remembering times now long gone. "Being a big sister is… well, it's funny. Real easy to be mean."

"Hmm?"

"Y'know… hide her toys. Make fun of her bad haircut. _Give_ her the bad haircut. On purpose," I listed off, choosing not to go into the very worst things I'd done so as not to turn this whole thing into a sob story. "I mean, I did put the gum there. Figured I should get it out – at least before somebody else did it for me."

Clementine let out a breath at that, a half-sigh, half giggle as she spoke up again. "You didn't…"

"Yep. Gotta say though, it could've turned out a lot worse. Thank god I used safety scissors."

"Nice," she sarcastically smirked, glancing up at my head as if she might've thought that I ended up doing that to myself, too. "Is that really what it's like having a sister?"

A lone walker wandered along the street outside as I sunk down a little in my seat. We'd blocked the door with some boxes and secured the place pretty well by placing an old set of kitchen tweezers into the door handle, but I'd have rather just stayed out of sight from it all the same. I think I'd had enough of the undead for one day. "Wasn't all bad, no. Just something that came with the territory, I think," I shrugged, following the walker's trail until he disappeared into the gap of some of the buildings. "We used to go to this amusement park every summer back home. Jaime always dragged me to the biggest roller coasters she could find... called me a wuss whenever I told her I got nauseous on them. But… the best part really wasn't about the rides at all," I trailed off, preferring to remember this version of my sister than the one who came later. "Nobody ever knew us there. Nobody ever cared. I didn't have to constantly try to act "cool" in front of anyone, and I'd try to pretend that we _weren't_ sisters. Just… friends."

Quiet settled in between the two of us for a while, neither party really knowing where to continue from there. I'd been hoping all that time that I hadn't just been making things awkward, but if there were ever any gripes among the child sitting across the counter from me, then she sure as hell didn't show it. She pressed her lips together, mulling over my words as she nodded and soaked in everything I was telling her. I waited silently in the dark, sort of wanting to probe through the young girl's mind; pick her brain for what she was thinking about.

Taking a second to realize just how creepy that sounded in my head, I turned away as a few howls pierced through the night from outside.

"Those don't sound like walkers," Clem noted, jogging over to the next booth over as she placed her hand upon the glass. Smirking at her child-like curiosity, I shook my head and stared out a little bit down the road. We were holed up right across the street from the fountain, having picked a rest stop directly on Tryon Street to make it a little easier on ourselves in the morning, regardless of what came next.

"Coyotes, most likely."

"Really?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. With all the people gone, animal packs would probably have a field day around here." Directing my attention back to Clem, I watched as the brim of her hat shot higher on her face after trying to get a closer look to the outside world. "Nature's always got a way of taking shit back."

Pensively, Clementine sank back into the seat after not seeing any wildlife activity out on the road. They must've been pretty far off. "Do you think they'll be dangerous?" she grilled, likely uneasy about anything right now since our already short list of weapons had gotten cut down to just my knife and Clem's spear. Honestly, the things were basically just glorified pieces of wood, but for our purposes, they did a pretty satisfactory job.

I was doubtful that we'd really feel the pressure tonight, though. "Not likely. They'll probably be out hunting for other animals – rabbits, mice, that kind of thing," I described, sounding more like a documentary host than a twenty-six year old with a weird-ass obsession with survival. "It'd be kind of cool to have one as like some sort of guard dog, though. Or maybe a wolf. _That'd_ be pretty kick-ass."

"At least until he bit your hand off."

"We'd cross that bridge when we got to it. Quit trying to ruin my fun," I pouted facetiously, feeling satisfied with the outcome when Clementine sprouted a tiny grin. As we settled back into an uneasy quiet, however, I frowned as she stared longingly out towards the fountain. Sure enough, two or three different bank towers rose above the majority of the other buildings, with one of them apparently having been getting some new furnishings before the dead came back to life. Construction work had been rampant, with traffic cones, scaffolding, orange safety vests and unused equipment being left behind in the wake. "So…" I trickled off, almost deciding to leave the question hanging before I spoke up again, "what's your plan for tomorrow?"

I'd found it easier to talk to the girl after realizing that she hardly ever responded straight away. She took her time, collected her thoughts and never rushed through an answer. I'd started to appreciate that, having been so used to people talking out their ass that often I just gave up trying to hold a conversation altogether. Her nose twitched as she shrugged.

"Walk up there, hope for the best," Clem told me, giving a solid teenage impression that I'd probably seen a hundred times on Jaime. Seeing my narrowed gaze, she turned her head towards me and shrugged again. "What else can I do? We don't have any guns."

Rubbing the bridge of my nose tenderly, I sighed but reluctantly nodded my head. Clem had a point there. Although we probably wouldn't have even been having this conversation if we just dipped like I told her to, if she really wanted to see her friends alive and well again, the only way to do that would be to play by his rules for the time being. "…I get it, Clem. Really. It's just… well, I've known guys like Carver in the past," I conceded, garnering her interest as she folded her arms over the back of the booth seat, resting her chin on top. "They have their own set of rules, their own way of doing things. And they're definitely not the kind of people who like to give up their toys."

"Why are you telling me all this?" she continued to question, looking as though she had already made up her mind the second that she had talked to the devil himself. She could never make it easy on me, huh? Why did I always end up seeming like the devil's advocate in every conversation we ever had?

I couldn't be mad at Clem for this, though. Really, this whole thing could've been easily avoided if I had just left the radios well enough alone. I just wished there was another way out of this, for the _both_ of us, that she could accept. I wished there was a way I could've shaken off this feeling of obligation towards her, and that suggesting an alternative plan that didn't involve a bunch of people who I frankly didn't care nearly enough about wouldn't end up with Clementine turning her back on me, the same way I did to her the first time around.

"…I know he's the one who gave you that branding. I don't need to be a genius to figure that one out," I stated, not really looking for an argument as she winced. The cat was pretty much out of the bag, anyways. "And I know you don't want to talk about it… but is this really what you want? To go back to the guy who hurt you in the first place?"

"It's not about what I want, you know that…"

"Clem… you can be your own person – you don't owe these people anything!" I told her, hoping that one last ditch effort might've been enough to win her over. If this didn't work, nothing would. "We could just… _leave._ The both of us. Right now." I saw her stiffen at that, bottom lip quivering so much that for a split second I thought I saw her considering the proposition. Trying to appear less brash, I lowered my voice, looked straight into her eyes and spoke to her directly, clearly. Not as a kid, not as a burden, but as an equal. "Don't you ever want to know what it's like to live your own life?"

This was it. My trump card. This was the last hand I had to play, and I was going all in. She was stewing over in the booth, and for better or worse, I could tell that she was at least thinking about it; mulling over the possibilities, of what that freedom could do for her. She wouldn't have anything tying her down, could go anywhere she wanted, _be_ whoever she wanted.

But the more that I thought about it, the more torn I became. If I was so intent on having her set off on her own, wouldn't that just mean that _I_ was holding her back then, too? Was I trying to make the decisions for her? Was I being selfish for wanting her to go this way?

…N-no… no way… it… I couldn't have been…

"They're my family, Jane," she firmly responded after what felt like an eternity of waiting in the sub shop that still hadn't quite gotten rid of that deli smell. "I can't abandon them. Not to Carver."

Letting my head roll back and releasing an audible sigh through my nose, I felt myself chuckling despite myself. Welp, so much for that shit. "You're a pretty tough negotiator. You know that?" I stated as Clementine smirked, coming over to sit across from me in the booth as I peered over. "Would've made a pretty mean lawyer, if things had panned out differently."

"Maybe," she fully admitted, "but getting yelled at sucks, though."

"Won't get any argument from me," I noted, snapping my fingers suddenly as I pulled the rucksack up onto the table. "Almost forgot about this, but uhh… here," I quietly motioned, presenting the pair of gloves I'd found hidden away in that donation box as Clementine grasped them in her hands. "It'll probably be a little small on ya, but better than nothing, I guess."

Placing them gingerly on her hands, Clem laughed as one of her fingers slipped through the hole; wiggling it around as she basked in the warmth. "Thanks," she nodded gratefully, turning to me a few moments later as she hesitated. Confused, I turned behind me to see if there was something wrong, even going so far as to check my jacket to see if I'd spilled anything on it. "What about you?"

"Huh?" I questioned dumbly. "What about me?"

"Won't you get cold, too? You should take these… you're the one that found them."

"Keep 'em, Clem. That's what I've got pockets for," I emphasized, noting in my head about how little she had on to stave off the cold. Besides, these likely weren't made of the best material in the world, and having warm hands didn't exactly make up for the fact that she'd be freezing everywhere else.

Which is why I was so bewildered when, after a few seconds of mulling it over, Clementine took off one of her gloves and practically forced it into my hand. "Here," she went on, "there's no sense in the both of us being cold out here."

Sliding the wool item over my hand, I laughed at how ridiculous this entire ordeal was. Having one mitt might as well have been the same as having nothing at all, but if me taking it would somehow make her feel better, then damn it, I'd play along. "I feel like Michael Jackson," I mentioned, pretending to do the moonwalk with two of my fingers as Clem cracked a large grin; the both of us chuckling amongst ourselves in spite of it all. By the time it died down, and I could feel a big set of yawns coming on, Clementine volunteered to take first watch, claiming that she likely wouldn't be able to sleep tonight anyways.

The comfiest spot in the whole place was definitely the booth over in the corner of the room, with the wooden wall acting as a sort of back support while I laid the rucksack underneath my head. There were still a bunch of hard, plastic items in there from before, but for the most part, I could've almost sworn that this was the closest thing to a pillow that I was ever going to get. Clementine watched me from her spot near the front windows, and although it was a little odd having somebody looking over like that, having not had that kind of undivided attention in years, it was also a little comforting to know that I could possibly get a few uninterrupted winks in for a change.

Shuffling my back around to find a spot that agreed with me, I shut my eyes and tried to rest.

…

…

…

…

"…you're not coming with me tomorrow."

Cracking one eye open, I sat up a little bit and struggled to see Clementine's face from across the way. I still wasn't sure if I'd heard that right. "What're you talking about?" came my muffled reply, already sounding like I was halfway to la-la-land. "Am I gonna hit them from the side or something?"

"No," she shook her head, seeming to shrink in on herself as she placed her hands on her lap. "I mean… I'm leaving tomorrow. Alone."

Fully propped up at this point, I planted my boots on the floor as I rubbed my eyes in discomfort. "Are you friggin' kidding me?" I asked disbelievingly. "After all of this, after everything we literally _just_ went through… you're telling me to leave?"

"…I'm sorry…"

"You're _sorry,"_ I half-mocked, lazily slapping my hands on my thighs as I huffed and rolled my eyes. Absolutely un-fucking-believable. "Mind telling me why you didn't mention this, oh I dunno, like _yesterday?_ Can't believe I'm getting dropped like a sack of – "

"Would you _listen_ to me?!" she snapped suddenly as my eyes widened, my voice caught in my throat as her booming tone echoed throughout the shop. Neither of us spoke for a bit, worried that whatever was creeping around outside might've heard us, but when nothing came crawling around, I turned back towards Clem as she tried to explain herself. "I know what you said before, about our "deal" and everything…" she said to me, trying to make the dismissal seem less scathing than it actually was. "…but this isn't your fault. None of it is. I don't want to force you into something like this."

"Clem…"

"No," she repeated herself, hugging her knees to her chest and turning away from me. "I already lost people to Carver… I don't wanna lose you, too…"

Deflated and at a loss for words, I stared at Clementine's back for what seemed like forever until exhaustion was finally beginning to win me over. She knew that I had no interest whatsoever in being the puppet of some guy, let alone a person whom I'd never actually even met for real.

It was kind of weird, not being the one abandoning the person this time around. I'd gotten pretty good at keeping my distance to most that I'd traveled with, all the way back to the group I was a part of back in Washington. Sure, we'd gotten along decently enough by the end, but I never really _attached_ myself to any particular person. Jaime held the sole, prestigious spot for that, and once that was over, leaving things behind was easy. It almost became second nature to me.

Clem wasn't telling me this to punish me. If anything, it was almost like a release. I wouldn't need to worry about getting chased off by a bunch of gun-crazed lunatics, and I could head off on my own again; leaving this place behind to try and head south for a little TLC.

Wasn't that the goal all along? I thought that I knew what I wanted, and that this would've been the best plan I could've possibly come up with… but now I wasn't so sure. Without Clementine… the road was already starting to seem a lot longer than I'd thought.

Rolling over onto my side, I stared vacantly at the wall in front of me, disappointed thoughts shrouding my mind until I finally fell asleep.

* * *

 

I used to hate having blinds on my windows back home. They were always so expensive to install, were a bitch to fix if you pulled on the string too tightly, and never covered my bedroom window enough to give me a couple more hours of sleep in the mornings with the sun blinding my eyes. I always thought they were a waste of time, and like most of the things in my one-bedroom apartment, I opted for the cheaper alternative of curtains. The dust I could deal with, and it made living out my meager existence in that cesspool of a building a little more bearable.

Funny how it took the worst event in human history to make me fully appreciate the simple, stupid things like that even more. The sun was blaring through the dirt-covered windows, made all the more visible as dust particles littered the air. It was a pretty cool sight, and I could appreciate the days where I could just sit back and pay attention to all the little details. Boring as shit, but that was pretty much the story of my life at this point. Excitement was something I could probably do without, anyways, since all it ever lead to was a gun in my face.

My legs were numb as I nearly rolled myself out onto the floor, shaking them awake as the pins and needles effect took hold. All things considered, it was a pretty decent sleep. I got something that wasn't just a fucking rock or a tree, and I wasn't constantly pelted by the wind chill like I was on most nights.

Ruffling the bag out to get rid of the wrinkles left by the implant from my head, I brushed off the side of the sack and curiously peered inside. It looked as though Clem had taken the radio from it during the night, most likely figuring it'd look suspicious if she didn't show up with it when she marched to her death. Clever girl.

I was about to head over to the front, ready to apologize for having slept through my own night shift, when I spotted our only remaining spear sitting idly on the table where the girl had been last night. Clem was nowhere to be found, and what's more, our barricade had been moved over slightly to make room for her exit.

"Shit…" I cursed out loud, scooping up the weapon as well as the rucksack before venturing outside. It was still early, since the sun had just begun to rise and the small, furry animals had just begun to awaken, but I wasn't really paying attention to any of that. I knew where she'd be, if Clem was even still _alive_ at all, and although I knew that she figured not saying goodbye would be for the best, I still wanted to at least see her off one last time.

I pulled out onto the street at a jogging pace, passing a couple of night clubs and bars along the way before finally coming to the outskirts of the banking district, when I finally saw her. Clem was facing away from me, standing skittishly over by the fountain.

When I saw the person she was talking to, backed up by a sizable force of people, my blood ran cold.

"You know, sweetheart, in a way, I'm kind of glad you dragged us out here. It made scouting for a new home that much more rewarding," the bastard smugly told her, placing his hands on his hips as he stared down at the girl; his eye still not covered up even after all this time. There were a handful of people I recognized standing behind him, including a very saddened Mike and Bonnie, as well as a handful of the people I saw over by Parker's Run. But there was a sizable difference in this group, however, since that Kenny guy along with the man who got shot, Nick, were nowhere to be seen. Carlos, too, and the woman they had laid out on the stretcher that I never caught the name of. "I'll cut to the chase," Carver went back to his dictatorship stance, holding his hand out for the radio as Clem dropped it into his palm. "You, ma'am, have got a lot of catching up to do. A shit-load. So I'm going to have to find some way for you to start making it up to me."

There was something eerily disturbing in the way he spoke, and even though it was kind of difficult to hear from so far away, I could no less make out most of the words. Carver knew how to use leverage to his advantage, and he was doing it well, unfortunately. Clem, for her part, was holding her own well enough; staring him down with the same intensity that I'd seen in her beforehand. You could tell she was terrified, but it still took some serious kahunas to stand up to a person like that.

"Where are the rest of them?!" she demanded, voice cracking a tad as Carver smirked. "Y-you said you wouldn't hurt them! You promised!"

Bill turned his head back to the group behind him, looking as though he'd been confident enough to control every direction of this conversation from the moment he opened his mouth. "They really shouldn't be your primary concern right now, Clementine. Besides," he twisted her words, using her guilt against her, "if you _really_ cared about your friends, don't you think that leaving them would've been the last thing on your mind? I'd ask Sarah about her opinion, but, well…" he trailed off, bending down to Clementine's height as tears sprang to her eyes, "you of all people should remember how that turned out. Getting her killed and all… That must've really burned inside, huh?"

"Sh-shut up!"

"What was it she said to you? As you were busy firing off your gun at me? It's a little hard to recall from the blow, but I'm pretty sure she was asking for help… _Hmph_. Some friend you turned out to be."

"SHUT UP! I… I HATE YOU!"

"Oh, I can tell, Clem. But you know what makes this all the more sweeter?" he taunted, tilting her head up as I could see her clenching her fists. "The fact that after all of this, even after you helped bring down our community and nearly left me for dead… I still win."

Clementine let out an ear-piercing scream as Carver jammed two of his fingers into the girl's burn wound, sending her toppling to the ground in agony as he loomed over her with absolute contempt. Luke belted out her name as she fell, but one of the guards smacked him in the ribs with the butt end of their gun as he collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. My grip on the haft of the spear tightened ridiculously as I hid behind the wall, but I hated the fact that even though all of this was happening to her, I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I'd be gunned down in an instant if I were to charge at him from here, and absolutely nothing would change. I'd just be another statistic among the millions that already existed.

"The building might be overrun, but it doesn't change the fact that you still belong to us. To our community. _H_ for Howe's, remember?" he told her, leering at the way her face crinkled in pain. "Let that mark be a lesson to you, Clementine. You're on your third strike. Don't fuck up again, or it'll be a whole lot worse."

Practically dragging her up by the arm, Carver ordered one of his lackeys to tie her up as she tried to glance over her shoulder. It was a simple gesture, innocent to those who didn't know what it meant, since seemingly nobody was standing there.

But I could tell, even without having to hear it from the girl's own mouth, that she was trying to spot me out.

"We're heading out, people! We'll sort out all the positions once we get settled into our new home, alright?" he hollered out, borderline insane as he went from torturing a young girl in one moment, to trying to appear inspirational the next. The guy was completely delusional, and like it or not, I'd just let her walk into that. Alone, afraid, and likely in a pile of shit so big that I wasn't sure if she could climb out.

Feeling completely helpless, I sank to my knees as I watched her and the others get pushed around like a herd of cattle. I waved meekly, knowing fully well that she wouldn't see it, and my heart sank to my stomach. I _knew_ I shouldn't have come back… caring about people only ever hurt in the end. Fuck! I thought that I'd learned that fucking lesson the first time around! How could I have been so god damn stupid?!

Resolve weakened to almost no repair, I wiped my eyes with my sleeve silently as I grunted and forced myself to my feet. Fuck this. I wasn't going to let this break me, not like before. Not like Jaime. It practically killed me, for a long time… wandering from place to place without any one destination in particular to return to.

Poking through the rucksack, I angrily shoved the flashlight to the side, along with some more of the crushed blueberries before stopping short. Shakily, I reached my hand deep within, feeling around for the object as I finally got a grip on its plastic surface.

The second radio, which I'd nearly all but forgotten about, stared back at me as I started glancing between it and the direction that Clementine had just left.

Only a few seconds later did I make up my mind, switching the thing on as it whirred to life.


	6. Unsettled

_"Troy? You there?"_

_"…yeah, comin' in loud n' clear, Bill."_

_"We're gonna be hitting the rendezvous point soon. Give or take an hour. Any issues on your end?"_

_"Nothin' we couldn't handle. Some of them prisoners ain't takin' too kindly to us roughin' 'em up, though."_

Sneaking and spying gave me a joy that I really never realized until now. The whole experience had quickly become a game that I turned it into, a test of how long I could stalk the group without letting anybody know that I was onto their trail the entire time. Open stretches of road would obviously create issues with the whole "hiding" thing, and I'd ended up falling a little bit behind as a result of having to wait until they were far enough away from me, but this little plastic device was quickly becoming my best friend. For two days now, this thing had kept me in touch with their conversations, which, judging by how ridiculously clueless Troy seemed to be, meant that I'd have a whole sleuth of clues to lead me right up to their doorstep.

Funny how just the other day I'd been cursing myself for having taken these in the first place. This radio had now become my lifeline.

_"How many times do I need to say this? They're not prisoners. Nobody here is,"_ Carver replied as I released a bitter, scornful laugh. Yeah right. As if anybody with a set of brain cells would believe that. This guy had his head jammed straight up his own ass. _"But I'll keep that in mind. No need to work them to the bone just yet. We haven't even arrived."_

"Where the hell are you going…" I quietly breathed out, careful not to press the chat button for fear of blowing my cover. I'd be royally screwed if they realized that somebody else was listening in on their conversation the entire way to who-the-fuck-knows-where, and in all honesty, I preferred to keep a suitable distance from Bill at all times. Keeping my head attached to my shoulders would definitely make it a little easier to, you know, _live_ , and such.

I was losing the war on hunger quickly, having to fight my rumbling stomach for the past few hours now since literally all of my food was gone. Normally, hunting would've been a reliable prospect that I would've taken to immediately, but if I fell off their trail now, I'd likely lose Clementine forever.

Clem had been taking up a lot of air-time in my brain lately, being almost the only thing I ever thought about now as I wondered how she was faring out on the road. Seeing at least one familiar face in Luke probably helped out a little bit, but with the way that Carver was basically shepherding them around like cattle, I'd be surprised if he even let them get a word in to each other.

Well, wherever it was they were going, I certainly hadn't expected it to be further north. We were getting pretty close to the mountains, and I dreaded having to follow them during the night with how deathly freezing the air could get. I could take solace in my jacket, but for Clementine, with her long-sleeved shirt that looked thinner than a piece of paper, it would've been nothing short of a miracle if she didn't develop hypothermia on an almost daily basis.

_"A'ight. Should we wait for y'all at the entrance, then?"_

_"No need. We're probably gonna get there first. Tavia's got her crew already working on the fortifications, and clearing out the other denizens in the area."_

_"Th' what?"_

_"Walkers, Troy. The dead wouldn't exactly appreciate fresh meat coming to muscle in on their territory,"_ I could hear Carver deadpan over the speaker. I tried to quiet my breathing down so as to hear every word, but from the sounds of it, it seemed like they'd already found a place to hold up. I had to admit, even though the guy was a certified douchebag, Bill certainly had his shit together. I couldn't really argue with that.

Didn't mean I wasn't going to track them all down, though. Sooner or later, I was gonna find my way back to Clem.

…but what then?

_"Just make sure everyone's prepped by the time we get to NCS. We need to get everyone moved in as quickly as possible,"_ Carver continued, causing me to scrunch up my face in confusion. NCS? _"We'll settle the working and sleeping arrangements first thing, but I'm gonna need your assistance once everything's ready. Tinkering with electricity's a two-man job, after all."_

_"You got it, Bill."_

Damn it, no! Wait just a –

_"Alright. Shouldn't be more than an hour on our end, assuming we don't have any more stragglers roaming behind,"_ he pointedly remarked, and the mental image of that son of a bitch glowering down at a broken Clementine was enough to tighten my grip on the piece of plastic. Once the radio silence kicked in, leaving nothing but a quiet, consistent buzz in its wake, I threw my head back to the clouds with my eyes shut tightly. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I gradually adjusted my sight to the blinding rays of the sun and groaned.

Great. Now where the fuck was I supposed to go?

* * *

 

I hated getting lost. While it seldom happened to me – maybe once or twice at the very most – the impact that it left resonated with me even into adulthood. Being unable to find your way back to the station wagon at eight years old was definitely not my idea of "quality family bonding time", as my deceased mother once put it. She could've brushed it off all she liked, but that was easily the worst vacation we'd ever had. Crammed into the back seat with Jaime and her army of toys for three and a half hours, only to arrive and lose sight of everyone within a day of arriving?

Nah. I'm good, thanks.

It was becoming abundantly clear though that those same fears I'd gotten as a kid were starting to stir back up again in my brain. While they were a decent-sized group, which normally should've meant that they'd have been moving slower, it was getting more difficult for me to keep tracking them down. Four times I'd had to lean up against a tree to stable myself, with the most recent one giving me a nice, oozing mess of pine tar on my hand as I tried wiping it off on the grass.

No point in denying it, I supposed. Unless Clem had somehow left a trail for me to follow, I was gonna be hopelessly turned around. And there was absolutely no way that was happening – Carver would be watching her like a hawk.

"Shit…" I quietly hissed as another pang of hunger erupted in my gut. My vision was starting to blur at the corners as I tried forcing myself upright, but at this rate I was probably more likely to find an early grave than to somehow rescue Clementine.

Using what limited strength I had left to push myself to my feet, I stood still for a moment and closed my eyes. This was ridiculous. These guys couldn't had given me a more prime example of group troubles if they tried. Scarce resources, infighting and being more openly visible to danger were just some of the basics, but if this particular group was stupid enough to (presumably) get captured _twice_ , by the same damn maniac, no less? Then frankly, to hell with 'em. They clearly weren't built to last, and I was legitimately shocked that they'd managed to survive this long. Clearly not through their wits, that's for sure.

Damn it all… this would've been a hell of a lot easier if Clem had just listened to me and –

A fit of coughs interrupted my thoughts as I held my sleeve over my mouth. This was only going to get worse if I let it continue without putting at least some type of medicine – antibiotics, fucking… _gummies_ , I don't know – into my system, and I sure as shit wasn't going to find any way out here. There wasn't exactly a smorgasbord of supplies that I could call upon.

Sarcasm aside, I knew that whining about things would only serve to make this near-pointless trip that much longer, so, shaking my head and groaning slightly, I pulled the collar of my jacket closer to my collarbone and forced myself back to the road; using the spear as a sort of walking stick to keep me from falling over again.

The scenery surrounding me while I walked actually wasn't as terrible as I thought it'd be, what with my recent habit of being a bit of a pessimistic asshole at times. Once you strode past the acres of farmland that looked like it came straight out of Stephen King novel, there was a really nice view of the mountains in the distance, with low-hanging clouds surrounding the peaks and miles of trees covering most of the base. The sun glistened off of a stream running alongside me as I listened to the sounds of the running water, and despite how much the wind chill was bothering me, I could at least distract myself by quietly humming a song that I'd remembered listening to back home. Back when I actually _had_ a home.

The smell out here, on the other hand, didn't match up to the sights whatsoever. This place absolutely _reeked;_ like the smell of dead flesh combining with the scent of burning hair into one giant, puss bucket of death. It was gross as hell, and unfortunately, I was more than used to it at this point. Walkers must've outnumbered the rest of us by like a billion to one at this point.

Only, as I turned down a winding road about a half hour later, I started to get confused. There weren't any walkers in sight, and I couldn't really hear anything aside from my own breath as I tried to walk a little bit faster. I couldn't help but chuckle a little bit in my head at how the possibility of an actual walker showing up comforted me more than just waiting for one to pop out. Fear of the unknown and all that jazz, I guessed.

Getting both increasingly anxious and angry at myself for not following along more closely to Clem and her gang of doomed miscreants, I unlatched the radio from my belt and tried listening again. A little light on the front was the only thing telling me whether or not this plastic piece of crap was gonna die on me or not, and, being the tech-savvy person that I was, gritted my teeth in annoyance as I tried smacking the back of the radio when it wouldn't immediately turn on.

A little whirring, buzzing sound was all I got, which practically made me pull my hair out with how desperate I was becoming, but I had to cough once again as the smell got progressively worse. Where the hell was it coming from? Couldn't have been the woods, since the smell was too strong and there weren't any of the usual signs over there, and couldn't have been to the right of me since, well, there was a frigging cliff dropping off into the town below.

Spear at the ready, I wandered down the beaten path for a few more minutes, when it finally came into view.

But I sure as shit wasn't ready for how completely messed up the scene in front of me was.

Now, dead bodies were really nothing new at this point. You saw them all the time, and other than the occasional defeated sigh and wonder about how this could happen to so many people (innocent or not), ultimately you had to move on. Press onwards. Hell, Clem and I climbed over a fucking dog pile of them just to get to where we were going.

But the more that I looked at this particular display, with bodies all huddled together around some covered-up sign, I could tell something was up. The vast majority had been tied to a couple of wooden posts by their necks, with looks of complete agony still frozen on their faces as their innards hung outside of their stomachs. A bloody hatchet sat buried into the skull of a now-dead walker, who, as I dislodged the weapon and was forced to turn the corpse over, still had bits of rotting flesh and skin stuck in between its teeth. Limbs had been torn off (more like _sawed off,_ if this sick practice was any indication), and many of the unfortunate survivors had arrows piercing out of their faces or chests. The ropes tying them to this place had been fastened so tightly that there was no hope for their escape, with their only option being to sit here and wait for their own deaths.

Jesus Christ. Either some fuckers had done this for their own twisted amusement, or this whole thing was meant as a warning. _Stay the hell out our territory, or you'll end up like these guys._ Even Bill didn't sink this low, as far as I was aware.

Well, if that was the case, then mission accomplished, buddy boy.

I was about to leave this gruesome scene behind me and try to forget how messed up the rest of the planet had become, but stopped myself as I saw the beginning of the word "Welcome" written underneath one of the bodies. The poor bastard likely had gotten the worst of it, seeing's how at this point he looked like nothing more than a sack of meat, but with no real knowledge of where I was or where I was going, curiosity had gotten the better of me.

Kicking one of the bodies in the head lightly as a precaution, I meandered my way through the carnage and tried shoving the body out of the way so that I could at least make out where I was going. Flies were practically streaming towards me as I squinted at the wording, and I only got about halfway through the second word before the body gave way; the torso falling to the ground as the remains of the dude's head and throat dangled like the rope he was attached to. It took all of my willpower not to puke on the side of the road, turning my head to the side and waiting until the sound of his noggin scraping against the wood stopped before turning back around. My hunger problem was definitely gone now, at least for the moment.

Sighing, I tried not to look into his lifeless eyes as I read the rest of the billboard. _"Welcome to North Carolina State University – Fear the Wolfpack!"_ I read aloud before stepping back and rolling my eyes. School spirit was just as cheesy in the apocalypse as it was before, but I had to admit that the blood dripping down the sign from the severed head sent a slight shiver down my spine.

North Carolina State… NCS. It didn't take very long to click in my brain, and once again, the kid came back into focus. This, regardless of it not being Carver's handiwork, only strengthened my resolve to get her the hell away from this place.

Because the thought of Bill not being the only fucked up person around these parts did nothing to ease my mind.

* * *

 

Things didn't really look much better the closer that I got to the campus.

Certain road entrances had been blocked off by dozens of vehicles, definitely looking as though they were meant to keep people going towards the school rather than deeper into the heart of Raleigh. For any particular reason I could only guess.

It was a little discouraging seeing all of them lined up like this, waiting abandoned with the keys having long disappeared. A getaway vehicle would've been absolutely _perfect_ here, especially considering that the current occupants of the college (well… hopefully, I guess) were out of their god damned minds. I had no intention of making this a long-term stay – the sooner I busted the kid out of this hell-hole, the sooner I could get on with my life without having this giant-ass rain cloud of guilt hovering over my head.

Because as much as I hated to admit it, the guilt was there. Oh, you're damn right the guilt was there.

Tiny thoughts, little pricks of resentment that I just couldn't wash away, had been festering in my mind ever since I started this trip. A lot of it was for that dumb-ass group she'd gotten herself mixed up with in the first place, but I couldn't help but place, totally unfairly, a little bit of it on Clementine, too. She was smart for her age, I could tell that easily enough after the first day or so. Clem had caught on quickly to the limited number of things I'd been telling her about, and the rest she seemed to almost absorb into her brain after watching me do it for a couple hours. She didn't really leave much room for doubt – if there was any potential left in the world, that kid had it in spades.

Which made it so incredibly frustrating to watch her throw all of that away the second that she heard that her group was in trouble, to the point that I kicked a crumpled tin can in annoyance as I walked past; listening as it smacked lightly against a deflated car tire. I understood the desire on a base level, to want to do the right thing for the people she cared about. To want to keep as many people alive as possible. I really, truly, did.

But… that was the old Jane. That was the Jane who took stupid risks, who was smart enough to keep breathing but not smart enough to recognize when to look the other way. The woman who, although wasn't a pocketful of sunshine and rainbows, probably wouldn't have had the strength to look at crappy situations in the eye and to call them out for what they were. The one who would drag a long-since defeated, deadweight sibling who was just going to drag me d-…

_'…no,'_ I reprimanded, screwing my eyes shut as I tried keeping the anxiety from hitting me like a truck.

The new Jane was supposed to be better than that. Older. Wiser. Less prone to making dumb-ass choices like tearing across half of North Carolina looking for a girl less than half my age.

I mean, fuck… what if Clem didn't even _want_ me to do this? She had her family now, right? Her _real_ family, not the washed-up pretender I was trying to be… definitely not some random woman she'd met out in a creepy, abandoned if not practical hardware store. "Stranger Danger" and all that, right?

Jesus. Maybe the kid was better off without me.

_Uuuugggrrrrhhhh…_ This sucked. I was tearing myself in half over the little uncertainties as I bit my lip and swallowed the lump in my throat. NCS was literally half a block away, and yet here I was, questioning what the fuck I was even doing here. Why couldn't I have been thinking about this like, oh I dunno, maybe back in the city, or something?!

Groggily keeping my eyes open, I swore under my breath as I used the wooden spear as a crutch to keep myself upright. There wasn't really much point in delaying this anymore, I supposed. Right or wrong, it was way too late for me to turn back now, not after nearly starving myself to death just to get here. Clem was going off like a bomb in my head, but I needed some food first and foremost.

_There ya go,_ I snorted shortly, wandering down the road for a little ways more. _There's the Jane you know. Survival first, others second._

It's how it had to be… Selfish or not, I had to take care of myself first. After all, how the fuck can you hope to find somebody if you're already dead yourself?

"God damn… where's a pint when you need one?" I whispered, my breath becoming a foggy mist billowing out through my mouth.

* * *

 

NCS, as far as I could tell from the decently well-preserved map they had outside, was divvied up into five campuses – west, north, south, central and centennial. Pretty standard from what I remembered of my short spin through college, except this place was definitely bigger. Compared to my alma mater, this place was a damn palace.

Centennial seemed like a pretty decent prospect, with its relatively central location highlighting a bunch of the research buildings and student housing, though I frowned in contemplation a little bit at one particular area; aptly named "The Oval". Somebody had repeatedly circled it in dark green marker, and although it looked too worn out to be from one of Carver's circle of fuckwads, it was hard to ignore the frantic markings surrounding it.

Biting my lip contemplatively, I sighed upon realizing that while there definitely was a clear, straight shot to get to centennial through the courtyard, it was definitely too wide open for me to get behind any adequate cover. I'd have been uncovered in an instant, and making a huge scene in front of Carver's "asshole patrol" wouldn't exactly be a great way to bust Clem out of this joint. First impressions and all that.

So… parking garage, huh? Not exactly ideal either, but when had any of my plans come without a few caveats?

The walk over was mostly spent with my eyes wide open, ducking in and out behind dumpsters, benches and various other stationary cars when they were available; albeit a bit slowly due to my sluggish state. My paranoia was starting to kick into overdrive, made all the worse by the macabre, eerie feeling I was getting from this school the longer that I searched. What was up with this place? This fucking town in general, even? I know that shit must've gone sideways in cities all over the country, and most of the population at this point was surely to have been killed off, but did it really have to be so quiet? I swear I could hear my own thoughts out loud at this point.

Sometimes it'd make me stop and wonder if the rest of the planet went the way of the dinosaurs, too. It couldn't be this bad everywhere, right?

Knife at the ready, I swore under my breath as a flock of crows took flight while I crept closer and closer to the parking garage. I was getting jumpy, and with my heart pumping a mile a minute, I shook my head and tried to choke out a few steady breaths to regain my composure.

No turning back now, I supposed.

The parking garage was on the other side of a long, dark tunnel, which was only dimly illuminated at one end by the natural light of the sun. The daylight was fading fast, though, and with no batteries for the seemingly broken flashlight, time was becoming a luxury that I couldn't afford.

The wind and droplets of rain reverberated off the tunnel walls as I walked. More cars were parked without a care in the middle of the pavement – some of which were empty, but some of which still had drivers and other passengers sitting inside, long-since dead. _Must've been parents coming to pick up their kids,_ I thought to myself, shaking my head at the poor sods as I strode past. It was a terrible fate, for sure, but I couldn't help but stare at my own reflection in the window of a downed Subaru hatchback, silently wondering to myself what would've happened if _I_ had still been going to school at the time of the outbreak. Would it have made a difference? Would I have been sitting here, throat ripped out and slowly dying, instead of being out here alone and barely scraping by on a day-to-day basis?

…tch, whatever. Not like Mom and Dad would've even tried to pick my ass up, anyways. Jaime, maybe, but not them.

The familiar stench of death clung to the walls as I shielded my nose and edged into the parking garage. Cracks had started to form in between some of the concrete on this floor, as nature had started taking over with various brown grasses, roots taking up real estate where old pipes once ran undisturbed, and various dug-out holes where animals had likely called home. Had it not been for the scent of death nearly everywhere you turned, I probably would've considered this place kind of beautiful. There was still an unsurprisingly large number of vehicles still around, and were it not for my exhaustion I definitely would've searched some of them, but despite the blurriness starting to form in my eyes, I could still make out more unfamiliar markings on some of the concrete barriers. "The Pit Awaits" was sprawled out in big, hastily-written letters, covering up an old college poster of some stupid club that I couldn't make the name of. And if that wasn't enough to deter people away from this place, I titled my head slightly as I stared down some of the rows of cars; each barrier having its own phrase written on it as I read it softly aloud.

_"We come to you… not as followers…"_ I whispered, feeling a slight shiver down my spine when I realized the words weren't shown in marker this time, but in blood. _"But as children of the next world… taking up the mantle… and leading our people to a new beginning."_

Wooziness started to envelop me as I leaned on one of the cars, reading the last few sentences as I shook my head and wondered what kind of satanic rituals these fuckers must've been performing around here.

_"Forgiveness is a property of man… and hunger is a virtue of the beast… but we are neither, and yet we are both. Venture forth into the pit… and all will be revealed."_

"Freeze!"

Forgetting about the ritualistic mumbo-jumbo almost immediately, I slid behind one of the cars as the door handle caught on my rucksack. I cursed the darn thing as it ripped across the middle, and, realizing that anything falling out was likely just gonna be snatched up by this guy, I quietly chucked the bag underneath along with my spear and made a mental note of where I stashed it.

_Coming back for you later._

"Ya got nowhere to run, girly! I saw ya!" came the shrill, southern drawl of my pursuer. From the sounds of it, this was definitely that Troy jackass, and somehow I doubted that his intentions were anywhere close to friendly. "C'mon, now. Out you get!" he continued, as the cock sound of a rifle in his hands made the grip on my knife a little bit tighter. "I won't bite… promise…"

Fucking asshole…

Well, I guessed whoever made up the old saying, "don't bring a knife to a gun fight", really didn't take into consideration the fact that if that's all you had, there really weren't any other options. We were on the second or third level of this parking garage, which not only made it a nearly impossible jump to make unscathed, but I didn't really wanna test this guy's aim by making a beeline to the jump-off point anyways. And with no real way to sneak away without making more noise, I guessed that I'd just have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Here's to hoping my younger years of playing Metal Gear Solid were about to pay off.

"Where is this bitch…" he mumbled, searching behind an overturned trash can as I finally got a good look at him. Average height for a fully-grown man, camo pants and jacket adorning his greasy-looking body, and a dirty goatee to match his equally shaggy head. He didn't seem to be the smartest person in the world, which sort of made sense – Carver probably needed a right-hand man who was dumb enough to follow every order without question. He couldn't have some smart ass challenging his motives at every turn.

As he lowered his head, checking underneath some more cars, I slowly crept towards the guy, hoping against hope that I'd be able to ask him some questions if nothing else. Hunger and thirst were continuing to get the better of me as I stumbled a bit, feeling lightheaded, but that didn't deter my resolve. For all I knew, Clementine's life would've surely been on the line.

My knife gleamed off of the slowly-setting sun, and I got about eight feet away from him…

…that is, until I felt the cold barrel of a gun pointed straight at my neck.

"Shit…" I muttered, feeling somebody knock the knife out of my hand as I raised my arms in the air. Another guard stepped out of the shadows along with the person behind me, who'd since come to the side with her weapon still trained on me.

Troy, apparently having finally noticed that I'd been caught, came swiftly over.

"Well, lookee here," he sneered as he made his way to the front of the pack. "Caught like a rat in a trap. How's that sneakin' around workin' for ya now, darlin'? Thinkin' about guttin' us in our sleep or somethin'?"

_Call me 'darling' again and you'll find out, dickwad._

Choosing to keep my words to myself for the time being, I simply send a glare in his direction before shaking my head and frowning at the pavement. Fucking shitballs! This wasn't at all how I'd planned it to go.

"Come on, Troy… make this quick, would you? In case you forgot, Vince and I've got lookout duty tonight," said the woman who still had her gun pointed towards my throat. She had big, bushy hair tied up with a headband, and from the look on her face, I'd say she was almost bored with this whole thing. "We've got bigger fish to fry. Bill's not gonna be happy if you haven't given the assholes their jobs for tomorrow soon."

"Yeah man, cut the shit. What are we even still doing talking to this girl?" the second guard spoke up, who I could only assume was Vince.

Troy spat on the floor beside my boot as he shook his head. "Somethin' ain't right about this chick," he said, bumping me lightly in the sternum with the butt end of his rifle. "You gonna talk, girly? Huh? Or am I gonna have to beat the words right outta ya?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary."

Raising my head, I felt my fist tighten almost of its own accord as I watched the bastard himself waltz over towards us. My blood boiled just beneath the surface as I stared at his grizzled face, but even I had to divert my gaze as he smirked and lifted up my chin.

"Vince, Tavia – get back to the mezzanine. It's almost suppertime," he ordered, taking a step back as he gave me the once-over. The two guards hesitated for just a second before nodding and turning on their heels. "You're definitely a new face around these parts," he commented, getting a grunt from Troy as he turned his head. "Y'know, Troy… something tells me that threatening people right off the bat won't lead to a great first impression."

_Neither does gutting a lady while lining up a bunch of people, you vicious fu-_

"C'mon, boss. Just look at 'er! Ain't no way she's out here by herself!" Troy reasoned with a frown. "Got to thinkin' that maybe she's a spy or somethin'. Never know what might be skitterin' around these parts."

"Spy, Troy? Really?"

"Well, just look at her! Nothin' but a knife and the clothes on her back? Seems awfully suspicious to me."

"I think we at least should allow our guest here the benefit of the doubt, first. Being a good host, and all that," Carver gestured towards me, his stare never leaving as I found my sense of unease growing by the minute. What was up with this dude?! I hadn't even said anything to him yet, and he was already intimidating me! "So… you got a name there, sweetheart? Mine's Bill, if you haven't already clued in to that."

Saying nothing, I closed my eyes and shuddered as I felt his breath coming in hot on my face. The fur coat he was wearing smelled old and musky, with a hint of pine tar and old, dead bodies.

Hearing nothing from him must've started to irritate the guy, so he lightly grabbed the bottom of my face and forced me to stare him straight into his remaining eyeball. The thing still hadn't healed up properly, and I don't know if the guy wore it open like that because he liked it or he thought it made people fall in line, but I could start to see why Clem had been so afraid of him. The guy literally looked like a monster, and he acted like one too.

"I know my friend here spooked you at first, and I deeply apologize for that," he arrogantly told me. "But the thing is, you see… this is our home here. Our property. And it just wouldn't do to have a pretty thing like yourself wandering about unsupervised. It'd help me sleep a whole lot better at night if we both got to know you a little bit. Now I don't know about you, but to me," he pointed towards his chest, "that seems to be more than a fair exchange. Wouldn't you say?"

I wanted to run. I really did. I wanted to pick up my knife from the pavement, which Troy had since pocketed for himself, cut this guy in the stomach and bolt. It wouldn't have been easy, and definitely would've gotten me killed, but the thought remained as I stifled down my fear and waited for a few seconds.

"…Jane."

Chuckling mirthlessly to himself, Bill placed his hands on his hips. "Well I'll be damned. She speaks! I was starting to get the feeling your tongue got ripped out for a second," he said before continuing. "Now then, _Jane_ … Mind telling me what you're up to out here? Not that I'm one to poke and prod, but this place isn't exactly the easiest to get to. And somehow I doubt you were just heading out this way for an evening stroll."

"I…" I stammered, trying to sound as genuine as possible. "…I was just out looking for food. A place to stay."

"Bullshit – "

"Troy! What have I told you a thousand times about interrupting?" Carver cut him off, placing a grip on my shoulder that I would've brushed off had it not been for the little revolver in his other hand which I hadn't noticed until now. "So, Jane… here's the thing. You seem to have a good head on your shoulders. Self-reliant, by the looks of it," he insinuated. "But there's just this burning question that's been on my mind since you arrived on our doorstep. And maybe you can help me out a bit here, Jane, because it's just keeping me on edge."

His hold on me tightened as I found myself gulping involuntarily.

"You see, there's been some suspicious activity around these parts. People were strung up by the neck when we arrived, weird noises have been heard out in the middle of the night with nobody seemingly around to make them. Creepy, haunted mansion-type of shit. And I'm sure you've noticed the nice, little messages around campus."

Deep down I knew it couldn't have been anybody from Carver's group, seeing's how not only did they just get here, but the markings had faded too much to be from anything recent.

Still… the thought of another pack of weirdos out here just made me wanna grab Clementine even quicker and head for the hills. This place so far had creepy written all over it, literally and figuratively.

Arching a brow, Carver continued as I took a step back. "I don't suppose you had anything to do with it, did you Jane?"

"I told you already," I insisted while folding my arms across my chest, "Food. That's it. I was tracking a wild boar and stumbled upon this place."

"That so?"

"Yes."

Carver fixed his eye on me for a long time, obviously looking to gauge on whether I was telling the truth or not as I held my breath. After a while of keeping my poker face up, praying that he didn't detect a whiff of horseshit with my story, he finally sighed out through his nose and smirked devilishly. "Well alright then," he complied, motioning to Troy for him to give me my weapon back. Frowning in confusion, I turned the knife over in my hand a couple of times before he started up again. "What? You didn't think we were just gonna let you into the fold that easily now, did you? I need to know if you can be trusted. And trust with me is earned through action."

"What are you talking about?" I questioned, getting a sneaking suspicion that this wasn't becoming what I thought I was signing up for.

As if reading my mind, Bill pointed right below his feet as I grew more bewildered. "Tomorrow morning, you're going on… let's call it an expedition, if you will," he explained. "That tunnel you went through to get this way? There are other, much smaller ones all over the campus, and you're gonna go clear one of them out. Walkers, bandits, animals… whatever's down there making noise. You won't be going alone, of course – Troy, Bonnie and Lukey-boy will be more than happy to assist you."

Troy bristled a bit at that, clearly having reservations about going down to do this, but Carver lightly punched him on the shoulder as he started walking back to the main campus.

"Show her to the gym, Troy. The rest of 'em should already be settling in," he chimed, stopping for a second as he put his revolver back into his pocket. "Welcome to the community, Jane. Oh, but one other thing…" he waved his finger around, giving me the most gruesome glare I think I'd ever received. "If I find out that you've been lying to me, or if you give me, Troy or anybody else here a reason to suspect you… well, just know that the last people who fucked with me just got a nice lesson in humility."

With that, I was soon shoved forward by Carver's top personal assistant as I growled lowly under my breath.

"Enjoy your stay, Jane. And try to behave, will you? After all," Carver told me, his gravelly voice echoing off the garage walls, "it's tough surviving out there without people to depend on."

* * *

 

I had to admit, as messed up as William Carver undoubtedly was, the guy at first glance seemed to run a pretty tight ship. Twenty-four-hour guard patrols on the roofs, a couple of old campus security trucks to block the main entrance, the beginnings of what seemed to be a barbed-wire fence, a small greenhouse, and… was somebody watching TV in there?

God, I missed TV. I never really watched a whole lot of it as a kid, but late into my teenage years and into my early twenties I'd practically be glued to the seat whenever a show like Criminal Minds came on. There wasn't really a plethora of quality programming in my mind other than that and a handful of other shows I'd couch surf through whenever I was bored out of my skull, but now that it was gone? Fuck, I'd kill for at least an hour of something other than the shitty world living outside my door.

What the hell was he even watching in that room, anyways? I couldn't get a good angle but…

"Get a move-on," Troy ordered, pushing me again towards the gymnasium as I sighed heavily, forced out of my daydream. This jackoff was lucky that I was too physically exhausted to fight back, otherwise I definitely would've had some choice words for the number of times he's smacked me around tonight. "C'mon, now, really? A frown on that pretty, little face of yours ain't right. Gimme somethin' to work with here – I need you lookin' mighty fine if I'm gonna start picturin' you in my dreams tonight."

Grinding my teeth, my eyes popped wide open as I turned around with a seething look on my face.

"Listen up, you fucking pig – "

"Just gimme a reason," he warned, licking his upper lip as he grinned and pressed the barrel of his Model 25 against my chest. "There ain't nowhere for you to run to no more, girly. Thinkin' you made a mistake comin' out here tonight. And Howie up there," he motioned to the guard on the roof, looking at me through his scope, "he's one of our best shots. Step out of line, mouth off the wrong person, and my boy'll pop your head clean off. Understood?"

I stood my ground, not wanting to yield to the nerve of this goddamn animal but having little choice as he leered at me.

"I need a _yes_ , Jane."

"…sure."

Troy glared at me for a few more seconds before grunting and motioning with his head to turn back towards the gym, just a couple minutes away. "Centennial Recreation Room" was stamped on the glass ceiling encompassing the complex; certain panels having fallen out and withered over the years.

Anger would've been an understatement to how I was feeling right now. I didn't have any lingering doubts about the state of captivity I had now willingly put myself in, and with assholes like this misogynistic twat walking me to what would essentially be my prison cell, I couldn't help but shudder against the stupidity I was forcing myself through.

This situation went against everything I knew. Everything I had painstakingly demanded of myself a month or so after my sister had died. Walking into this cage and submitting myself to all this shit when I could've (un)happily walked away? Sure, this place had food, water, shelter and electricity, but the cons definitely outweighed the pros.

But as the door opened and I was shoved inside, I began to panic internally. There were a couple of vaguely familiar faces all staring back at me – Luke, Nick, Carlos, that pregnant lady from before, and that guy in the old fishing hat… but I couldn't find the kid. She wasn't laying on any of the floor mats they'd provided as beds, and she wasn't sitting near the old heater they kept in the center.

Fuck! Now what the hell was I supposed to do? My entire plan had just flown out the window!

"Eat up, and get some rest," Troy told me as an old, bruised apple was tossed at my back. "Long day tomorrow – hopefully you improve that mood of yours. After all, we need to get along for our little adventure, right?" he taunted, and I almost thought I'd heard the last of him before he came over to whisper in my ear. "And y'know Jane… I could probably get you into a _real_ bed… if you make it worth my while."

With that, he warned the rest of the inhabitants to keep the noise down as I shivered, feeling the ghost of his nasally breath on my neck as I wrapped my arms around myself; walking towards one of the mats and facing towards the wall.

Coming here was a mistake. This whole fucking thing was a mistake. None of these people were worth it… and the only one who possibly could've been was probably dead or worse at this point. Now I was stuck here, forced to work for a maniac who'd probably end up getting us all killed eventually anyways, and stalked by a likely sex offender with a penchant for being as ghoulish as possible.

Great plan here, Jane. Solid A-plus performance. Way to go.

"Th-that's her! I swear, guys… that's the girl I saw in the woods! Told y'all I wasn't making it up!" I heard Luke exclaim to his fellow detainees. The low thud of his boots as he slowly walked towards me had me on edge as I felt the guy clear his throat and approach. "Um… hey there. Didn't expect you to come back n' – "

Cutting him off as I sharply glared at the man, Luke slowly raised his hands in surrender, bit his lips into a straight line and gestured with his thumb back to the group. "I'll, uh… just let ya get some rest, then. Sorry to bother you."

Yeah, uh-huh. Sure thing. You do that, farm-boy.

I spent the rest of the night on my side, facing the gymnasium wall as I tried to figure out what to do next.


	7. The Pit

"Seriously, Nick? _That's_ the suggestion you're going with? Sit around and do nothin'?"

"Look at where your brilliant plan got us the last time, man! Right back where we started! You've basically landed us in Howe's 2.0!"

"You're really gonna pin this on me?! Like it or not, the alarms worked! How was I supposed to know that the herd would come right on top of us?!"

"Would you both please just knock it off already?" the woman, who I'd since found out was named Rebecca, interjected from her spot in one of the lawn chairs. "Arguing's getting us nowhere! We need to think things through!"

They'd been at it for over an hour now this morning. Right around the crack of dawn, Kenny had been pacing back and forth, muttering to himself – something about Sarita, I think – and glancing at both of the exits to the building. I'd snuck a peek at the emergency exit, but no dice on that front. The handle had a rusted chain with a padlock that looked way too sturdy to crack open, even with my knife.

I still wasn't sure why Carver had willingly given this back to me, but he must've figured that I wouldn't be much of a threat. Unfortunately, with all the security measures around here, the guy was probably right.

Opting to stay in my little corner and let the morons fight amongst themselves, I'd taken to get a better look at this gym we were stuck inside. Decently sized place, really, with folded-up bleachers on the sides and a couple of basketball hoops with the nets starting to fall off the rims. The "NCS Wolfpack" logo was painted on in the center, along with a couple of championship banners hanging from the bannisters up above. Had those been a little longer, there might've been a way to sneak out of some of those busted glass panels, but the stands seemed like the better option.

Fucking loud, though, and with guards stationed on the roof across from us, it was probably too big of a risk to take the stealthy approach.

But I'm sure these idiots had all thought of this shit already, right? _Tch_ , yeah, okay. Give credit only where credit is due, Jane.

"Looks like you're finally up," Luke startled me, chuckling a bit as I gave a little jump. "Sorry, sorry… It's just, well, you were coughing a lot in your sleep last night. Got a little scared that you might've been turnin' at one point, but… well, I'm just glad you're alright, if I'm bein' honest."

Raising an eyebrow, I wiped the sweat that had accumulated on my forehead and stood up; cracking my back as I tried to get all the kinks out.

"…so, why're you here? If you don't mind me askin'. I mean, it ain't like this is the first time we've met or anythin', but the rest of these guys are findin' it a little strange that you came all this way just to -"

"I do."

"Huh?"

"I do mind," I replied icily, not in the mood for making smalltalk as I tried looking anywhere but his face. The last thing I needed was yet even _more_ baggage after this whole fiasco with Clementine had fallen through, but this guy's puppy dog stare was getting a little out of hand.

Scratching the back of his head, Luke carried on as if I hadn't essentially just told him to leave me the hell alone. Some of the crowd had silently turned their attention towards us, and I was starting to get a little irritated.

"Well… let me give ya the grand tour, at least," he jokingly insisted, extending a hand as I stared at it with disinterest. "I'm Luke, by the way. And you are…?"

Figuring that I'd be here all day if I didn't at least acknowledge his presence, I rolled my eyes and muttered out a "Jane".

Taking that as acceptance, Luke had the audacity to take one of my hands and force me to lightly shake it with his. What was this guy's deal? Did his parents not give him the attention he craved as a kid, so instead he'd just try to take it from everybody he came into contact with?

_Ugh._ Well, I guess I'd still take slightly annoying over completely obnoxious and vomit-inducing any day of the week. Although it really wasn't much of a step up.

"Nice to meet you, Jane!" he smirked, gesturing back to the group as he slowly walked me over. "Let me introduce you to everyone."

"What? N-no, it's fine, don't – "

"Guys, this is Jane – that woman I told y'all about," he practically boasted, gesturing to each person individually as I practically shrunk in on myself. "So, this is Nick, Rebecca, Carlos, Kenny… and, uh, that's Alvin, over on the bed," he grimaced slightly, looking apologetically at Rebecca as she glanced towards who I could only presume was her husband. "So, _ahem_ … anyways, say hello, y'all."

All I got in response was a pained half-wave from Nick, a suspicious frown from Kenny, a half-hearted hello from Rebecca, and absolutely no reaction from Carlos, who seemed to be lost in his own little world. These guys looked battered, beaten and broken – especially Alvin, who seemed to be barely breathing over on the mat, and Nick, who now that I remembered, was likely the guy who got shot when Clem had talked to Carver over the radio.

Luke sighed heavily as he turned back towards me. "There, uhh… were more of us, but… let's just say it's been a rough couple of weeks," he explained. I was about to tell him that I knew that already, but I figured that that'd only raise more questions from them than I was comfortable with right now. The guy seemed nice enough, I'd give him that, but if they were dumb enough to get captured by the same guy _twice_ , if not three times from what Clementine had told me, then I figured I'd still better keep my distance.

Sure, it might've been a little hypocritical since I had literally given myself to them on a silver platter, but still. With their floundering, it was only a matter of time before they'd all end up dead, one way or another.

So what the hell was the point in caring about a single one of them?

"Sounds like Bill gave you the royal treatment last night, huh?" Luke went on, and at my questioning look, he continued. "Mike came around, told us about the "new girl" they'd found. Well, as much as he could, I suppose. Apparently you're a pretty tough nut to crack," the guy tried to joke, cutting himself off awkwardly when I didn't visibly respond. "We're trying to make the best of things in the meantime, but we haven't exactly adjusted to Carver's fucking lifestyle here. _Pfft_ , if you could even call it that."

"That's 'cause this place is a shit-pit – and we should've been out of here hours ago," Kenny intervened with a scowl. I couldn't really get a read on this guy yet, but he looked like the kind of guy who'd punch first, ask questions later. Not exactly the type I'd like to associate with. "Why are we even still talkin' about this? That Troy douchebag's way too stupid to catch on to what we're doin' – let's fucking grab his gun and force him to take us to Clem and AJ, wherever they are!"

I turned my head sharply at that, which didn't get unnoticed by the man as I tried my best to regain my disinterested look. A chorus of exasperated groans accompanied his suggestion, and Kenny turned back to the surrounding group with his arms folded across his chest.

"Something the matter?"

"Going out guns blazing is part of the reason why we're back here in the first place, man! And you saw it outside when we came in – Bill's gotten even more paranoid than before," Luke argued, his voice showing a trepidation to it that I hadn't realized until now. The guy gazed over at Alvin with almost a defeated look on his face. "We've been through that enough. Nobody else needs to die over stupid mistakes, alright?"

I swear I could see Kenny's eye twitch, and he was likely about to chime in his own two cents before Rebecca stepped in.

"Stop it, the both of you. We… we can't keep doing this. Fighting amongst ourselves."

"Well, we can't just go into this all _gung-ho_ and expect to just magically make it out alive, either! And if y'all don't have a better plan for getting us out of here, then I'm taking matters into my own hands," Kenny went on as a small gust of wind blew in from one of the holes in the glass ceiling. I couldn't argue with his determination – getting the hell out of here was the main priority, after all, but the way he wanted to go about it left a lot to be desired. "Waitin' around here and mopin' ain't gonna get us any closer to finding those kids. And I for one ain't gonna just sit on my ass and wait for them to get killed! And if shooting our way out is the only option, then I'm taking the first chance I get!"

When it seemed that nobody else seemed to be giving him the time of day, Kenny rolled his eyes before cautiously walking towards Carlos, who hadn't seemed to leave the crouching position he was in seemingly all night. Their conversation was hushed, and so I couldn't make a whole lot out of it, but Kenny seemed to be more on the level with the Spanish man than he was talking to the rest of these guys; more relaxed and careful with his words, even. I could only guess as to why.

This group was tense as hell. They were beaten, cracking open at the seams and, if that argument was any indication, pretty much on the brink of desperation. Clem had warned me about a little of the drama that these guys had been through, and I could only imagine the trauma some of them must've been going through under a _douche_ -tator like Carver, but I wasn't feeling particular sympathetic to their individual plights at the moment. People struggled _everywhere._ It's not as if they were the first people to have something terrible happen to them, and with the world as it was, they'd either have to start getting used to that, or die.

Besides, I had other things on my mind right then.

"You said they took some kids?" I questioned, my voice feeling like a rusted-out wheel after not having spoken for so long. Rebecca and Luke turned to me in surprise, as if just remembering that I was still here and hadn't run off the second they weren't looking. She was the first to respond, nodding somberly.

"Almost as soon as we got here. Carver literally ripped my baby from out of my hands, the fucker," her face darkened, no doubt visiting the recesses of her mind for all the curses she could think of. "And Clementine, well…" she trailed off, leaving me with bated breath as I waited for her to continue.

Luke cut in, shaking his head. "We don't know," he said. "First night we arrived, I got dumped off at the gym while some of the guards had taken her away. Never felt so god-damned useless in my life. Kenny heard the guards talkin' about some girl being taken down to somethin' called 'The Pit', but that's the last we ever found out."

"The _Pit?_ The hell is that?"

"Couldn't tell ya," he shrugged, his guilt-ridden face explaining more than enough that whatever that was, it couldn't have been good news. It honestly sounded like Clementine had just been dropped into the depths of hell, and my dreary imagination began to come up with all sorts of fucked-up scenarios for whatever it was Clementine was just dragged into. Biting his lip, Luke studied my reaction for a second before turning back to Rebecca. "I tried to help, Becs… Honest to God, I tried. I swear I'd never – "

"We're going to get them back. We're going to bring them home," she interjected, clenching her fist and scowling as we all heard the gym door open. In came Troy, Bonnie, Mike and a smattering of others, some refusing to look in our direction with regret in their eyes, as Luke's group started to stand back up. "Both of them."

Giving us a look of utmost contempt, Troy motioned for Luke to stand Nick up as he shook his head at the still form of Alvin. "Still out cold, huh?" he mentioned, directing the inquiry at Rebecca as she went to block his view of the slumbering man. "Y'all better rouse him sometime soon, Rebecca. I can't guarantee Bill's gonna let him stay in here if he ain't up n' at 'em within the day."

"Then maybe he shouldn't have beaten my husband half to death if he didn't want that to happen! Ever think of that?!"

"You shut your goddamn – "

"He kidnapped my baby, Troy. My little _boy._ He's tearing my fucking family apart!"

"Christ, woman! What's so hard to get? Bill's your family, now. Him n' Bryan," Troy insinuated, and I swore I could see a little bit of remorse – of actual _human emotion_ – on his face as Rebecca sobbed into her sleeve, insisting that his name was AJ, but it was almost gone in an instant as he shook his head and returned to his incriminating stance. Kenny's right hand had been twitching as he no doubt tried to find an opening to steal the guy's gun, but Carlos of all people grabbed onto his arm and shook his head.

Good thing, too. This definitely wasn't the time nor the place.

Peering behind all the guards, Nick raised an eyebrow as he spoke up in disgust. "So… what then? Carver's so fucking busy that he won't even see to us himself anymore?"

Ignoring the question completely, Troy moved aside and gestured for Bonnie to stand up. She turned her head towards Luke with a pained grimace before quickly returning to the sheet of paper in her hands.

"Bill's… laid out some of the jobs for y'all today," she meekly explained, taking a deep breath as she read out some of the names. "Rebecca and Kenny – you're with Mike and Wyatt in the armory. Normally we'd have Shel go, but since she and some of the others ran off…" she stopped herself, gulping as she continued. "Carlos, you're in the infirmary. Luke and… Jane? With me n' Troy," she glanced around, acknowledging me with a curt nod as I placed my hands in my pockets. "And finally, Nick? You're… Jesus, Troy. You can't make him – "

"He can do it," the man argued, pointing at Nick with his gun that he seemed to love to an excessive degree. "Put him on patrol. Bill's orders."

"C'mon man! He just had a bullet go through his leg! You can't be serious!" Luke tried reasoning, but exhaustedly slapped his hands to his side as Troy made no indication of budging on this issue. Trying to reassure his friend with a smirk and a joke about his leg, I tuned Nick out as some of the group started piling out to their respective jobs.

More like sweat shop gigs, but whatever. Just this woman's opinion.

Bonnie briefly introduced herself to me and laid out the plan for the day, with Troy watching on like a hawk as I made sure my knife was still on me. We were going to be escorted over to the north end of the campus where an old tunnel excavation had once been started, but left abandoned after the dead started rising. It was a bit of a mystery as to what they were originally planning to build down there, but according to Carver, who happened to have been an engineer in his previous life, figured it was supposed to be some kind of transit system – a subway, perhaps? Some of the trams were apparently still down there, so I guessed that checked out, and from some plans Bill had found in the office, it appeared as though this system was supposed to run all across Raleigh.

They'd ended up getting a little bit of the electrical grid powered back on, but that was also another part of our little rendezvous: getting to the secondary generator switch to light up the rest of this joint. Bonnie explained that it shouldn't be too long of a walk to get down there, but with the noises and bumps they could hear in the night, she wanted us all to be prepared for anything. The guards had been getting a little skittish, saying that there were ghosts haunting the hallways around campus; spectres with young, decaying faces that were too incorporeal to be walkers. In a normal time I would've called BS on all of that, but with hungry corpses actually being a real, tangible threat? Yeah, I wasn't gonna start throwing stones.

Whatever. The sooner I got through this, the sooner I could find out exactly where and what the fuck this "Pit" was that Clementine was supposedly stuck in, instead of fucking around like I'd been doing for the past twenty-four hours.

Paranormal activity in an underground tunnel with little to no visible light. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

 

"Y'know, out of all the things that I thought I'd end up doin' in the apocalypse, huntin' for ghosts definitely wasn't toppin' the list," Luke remarked as he awaited Bonnie to climb down the ladder and join the rest of us. I turned on the flashlight I'd been given and shined it around some of the stained, moss-covered walls. "Hankerin' down in a bomb shelter and growin' a beard past my knees? Sure. Eatin' beans and Spam with an old, twisted spoon? Absolutely. But definitely not this."

"Can you even _grow_ facial hair?" Bonnie chirped with a grin as Troy took up the rear, having insisted that Luke and I head in first – probably so that we'd be the ones in danger if anything were to sneak up on us.

Luke chuckled a bit at that, though looked a little squeamish as he tried kicking something slimy off his boot. "Probably not, but hey, I'm optimistic!"

"Do y'all ever shut up…" Troy murmured, lulling us into a bit of unease as we started trekking outwards.

There had to have been miles upon miles of these tunnels laid out down here, and although Bonnie made it clear right from the beginning that we only had a certain distance to go, it wasn't hard to imagine it being easy to get lost down here. Electrical wires were (mostly) hung up and attached to the brick walls surrounding us, with certain unpowered light fixtures being our only sense of direction as we marched further into the deep. Nothing especially out of the ordinary so far, although we did pass by a corpse that Troy had kicked in the side of the head like an idiot for good measure, just to make sure it was really dead.

The underpass twisted and turned every now and again, sometimes with old sewer grates or smoke alarms that no longer did their jobs properly, and work signs that seemed a little too cheerful compared to the backdrop of this decrepit place. Most of the excavation tools had just been dropped in all the confusion, including a bulldozer, some power drills and a jackknife, but the strange shit started coming as we finally caught our first glance at one of the subway cars.

The thing seemed surprisingly intact for its size and lack of usage. Most of the windows were still unscathed, although by the glow of the flashlight, you could see a whole lot of sawdust littering the compartment floors. A couple of guys were laying dead on the tracks, with one of them having let out a low, gurgling growl as I plunged my knife deep into its eye socket.

"You're pretty handy with that thing," Luke complimented, walking beside me as he sported some kind of kitchen knife. Noticing how I blew the comment off with a shrug, he only grinned wider and nudged me in the side. "Gotta say though, for a supposedly "haunted" subway system, this place seems pretty chill so far. Seen any werewolves or witches yet?"

"What? You disappointed or something?" I asked bemusedly, snorting a little as he vigorously nodded.

"Yeah man! My supernatural exterminator's license is going to waste at this rate!" he joked, holding his fist out towards me as I stared at him with confusion written all over my face. "So, how about it? You ready to join Team Ghostbusters?"

Nearly facepalming at the notion that the guy could act this way in the middle of a potentially deadly area, I almost didn't take him up on it before sighing and bumping it back. "You always this giddy about everything? Or is it just the lack of air getting to your brain down here?" I quipped back. As persistent as this guy was, I couldn't deny that I wasn't feeling quite as anxious as I thought I would with all the incoherent yammering he was doing.

In a way, it kind of helped.

Luke sniggered a tad at that, checking one of the corpses' pockets before sobering up a little and making sure the other two were out of earshot. "Bit of a coping mechanism, really. To be honest, it's kinda cool havin' a new face around to talk to. Things have been gettin' pretty heavy back there."

Nodding my head, I made sure to wipe the blade off on the walker's pant leg before examining more of the subway. My methods for keeping a handle on my emotions might've been different compared to Mr. Barn Animal's over here, but I could agree with his assessment – people endured suffering in different ways.

He chatted with me (more like at me, with me throwing occasional one to two-word confirmations to his questions) for a little while longer as we searched for any salvage among the tracks. I wasn't really all that attentive to him, trying to focus on getting out of this place as fast as humanly possible, but I did learn a little bit about the group he was travelling with. A handful of them had been living in some kind of cabin about a few days' walking distance away, but that they were forced to flee from the looming threat of Carver and his goon squad. They'd lost a couple of people, Pete and Sarah, in the resulting days that followed, and hadn't really gotten any source of freedom since.

Luke mentioned Clementine a couple of times, but I tried to keep my questions about her as short and nonchalant as possible; so as to not raise any suspicions in Troy as to what I might've been thinking.

And to do that, I started realizing that I'd have to play along for a little while. If making a good impression with Carver was so damn important to him, then maybe getting through this train really was the best way to go about it.

But the further down we moved, the more apparent that this tram had been tampered with.

"This place looks pretty lived-in," Bonnie commented, noting the wooden boards and cushions that had been placed inside. She noticed a few empty chip bags, cans and water bottles strewn about, but didn't really notice any human activity as I slowly slid the door open. "Not so much anymore, that is. We got mole people down here, or what?"

There were a handful of sleeping bags at the end of the hallway that I crept towards, making sure to check all the aisles in case something wanted to get the jump on us, but I sighed and dropped to one knee as I examined the arrangements they'd once had. "Don't come over here," I tried warning Bonnie, but it was too late as she gasped slightly and put her hand over her mouth. A bloody human skull and one hand were all that was left inside, with gory bits of human flesh sticking to the sleeping bag as I tried to look for anything outside that could give an indication of what happened here.

"Think a walker did this?" Bonnie questioned as Troy and Luke walked on the outside of the tram.

Shrugging my shoulders, our suspicions were only heightened as a trail of blood lead out the door and back onto the metal tracks below. "Hard to tell. Could've been," I admitted, not exactly the best equipped to do any investigating, but frowning as Troy shone the flashlight up to the ceiling outside. "What the hell…?"

Following the line of sight, Bonnie and I stepped out of the cab with a _thud_ and peered up at some kind of strange message, sounding mysteriously similar to the ones I'd read on the way into NCS.

_We draw our strength from that which we most fear._

_Take pity on those who deny it, but do not lose your resolve. They will find only suffering in the end._

_All ends lead to new beginnings. All beginnings lead to a process of enlightenment._

_Though you may be lost, know that we have seen you. Watched you from the dark._

_Our beginning will bring you enlightenment as we make our way through the dead. Your light will only bring destruction as we wait in the shadows._

_The pit awaits._

"The fuck…" Troy whispered; eyes wide open as he stared out at what was beyond the hastily-written text. There was another manhole opening in the ceiling just ahead, which brought in some natural light to one of the most bizarre, disconcerting scenes I'd looked upon in years.

The first handful of bodies were arranged side-by-side along the track with their hands folded across their chests, all in an almost picturesque order. They looked to all be long-since dead, but the more alarming and immediate concern was the ones hanging – and I mean _hanging_ – up above them. Tied together and bound by their wrists by what looked to be some extension cords from the work site, these unfortunate assholes were largely left to turn… but each one had a different body part missing. An arm, a leg, an ear, an eyeball, a pair of lips… this torture didn't seem to be the work of a steady hand, but done out of anger and vengeance.

Bunch of sick fucks lived down here, and I couldn't help but avert my gaze as a walker with its nose ripped off stared at me and snapped its jaws. But what really threw me off was what was written on the slanted concrete wall behind them: _WE RESISTED._

I heard Bonnie nearly gag as we both saw that it was drawn out with human blood and intestines.

"Who in their right mind would do something like this…" Bonnie shuddered, saying what was likely on all four of our minds as Troy turned the safety off of his rifle. "This place… Jesus Christ, we can't just ignore this. We have to tell the others."

Luke, having remained relatively withdrawn for the past little while, finally spoke up as he saw Troy starting to wander off towards the generator. "Troy! Shit, man, wait! Don't turn that thing on!"

"If y'all happened to forget, we've got a fuckin' job to do! Unless of course, you'd rather stay here with them."

"Would you just listen to me?! Didn't you read that message?! They're comin' back! It's a threat!" he shouted, groaning when Troy didn't turn around and headed straight for the switch. "Goddamit, stop! Whoever these guys are, they ain't screwing around! This place ain't safe to live in, and we sure as shit can't stay here!"

"The only thing I see is a bunch of whack jobs thinkin' it's funny to scare people. We've got a handle on it – this ain't your call, Luke. You ain't the one in charge here!" he bit back, flipping a few of the breaker switches as the generator started whirring back to life. There were a few sparks in unfinished wiring sections of the tunnel, but some of the flood lights turned back on as Troy made a satisfied grunt. "Ain't no use in leaving these sons o' bitches hanging like this. You two, get a move-on! We can't leave any of 'em alive!"

Neither of us could fully comprehend this jerkoff's way of thinking, but without much of a choice in the matter, we set about the task. Luke took the right side as I started on the left, all the while making sure to keep the walkers' teeth at bay while I went to work.

I'd just gotten through dispatching my third walker when out of the corner of my eye, I saw what I thought was a young boy dressed in beige clothing, staring at me with a scowl on his face as he shook his head. The boy's hair was mostly shaven off, and his dark, piercing eyes almost burned through my soul as he simply mouthed _'why?'_ at me.

Time appeared to be standing still as I stood there mesmerized to the point of disbelief, holding the body of a downed walker as he lifted his hood over himself to shield his face. I'm pretty sure that I saw him say _'nine days'_ and lift up nine of his fingers for good measure before shaking his head again and disappearing once more.

Blinking owlishly, I stared off at the place he fled from, and trying to piece together whatever the fuck was going on down here. I couldn't wrap my head around any of it: the bodies, the writing, the vague riddles we were being given… and now this creepy-ass kid was being thrown into the mix? And nine days? Why was this random boy playing mind games with me?

_No way this was all him,_ I thought stubbornly. It couldn't have been. I couldn't bring myself to believe that a little boy was capable of orchestrating all of this cultist-like behaviour on his own, which meant that there had to have been more of these nutcases living nearby.

What frightened me more than anything, however, came to hit me like a ton of bricks as I remembered the last verse of their little wall essay.

_The pit awaits._

Twice. Twice I'd seen that now, which meant it couldn't have been a coincidence. Carver was either completely oblivious to whatever it is he'd thrown Clem into, or he had to have somehow been in on this whole operation.

Either way, Clementine had to have been in serious danger.

"Uh, Jane? Yoo-hoo? You still there?" Luke asked, waving his hand in front of my face as I snapped back to reality. All three of them had been focused on me as my cheeks reddened slightly, clearing my throat and breathing deeply. "Everything cool? The walkers are dead, but we thought we'd lost you for a second there."

Glancing back down the hall one last time, I reluctantly nodded my head and prepared to leave this place behind for hopefully the remainder of my life. "Yeah," I lied, putting on a brave face. "Just… just ghostbusting."

* * *

 

I'd been biding my time for four days and nights since that fateful encounter in the tunnels. Carver initially had dismissed our findings as hysterical nonsense (likely Troy's influence), but when news got around to some of the guy's goons that something sinister was afoot downstairs, Bill had gotten Mike and I to head out and make sure all the tunnel access points had been sealed off. I could tell that Mike really didn't want to be here any more than I did, and had more than a few choice words for his supposed "leader" and his fucked-up ways. But when I pressed him on it a little, asking why he didn't just up and leave, he kind of just sighed and admitted that as shitty as this place was, he had attachments to some of the people remaining.

The group had started convening in secret during the middle of the night by the heater in the middle of the gym floor to plan out details and figure out what they were gonna do. There still hadn't been any details shared about Clementine, since Carver seemed to be pretty tight-lipped about it, and while Rebecca had since then been able to at least glance upon AJ a couple of times over the past few days, it seemed to just make being without him that much worse.

Alvin had finally woken up, to the relief of everyone, and was currently nursing intense injuries with nothing more than a handful of aspirin pills a day, which he also had to share with Nick even though Carlos had noted the place had more than enough medicine at the moment. Thankfully, the big guy so far had only been given relatively mundane tasks so far, but Carver had let him know right up front that until he could return to normal duties, he considered Alvin to be a burden and a waste of resources.

Rebecca had tried clocking him across the face for that one, and baby 'privileges' (as he'd called them) had soon come to an end. As far as William Carver was concerned, he was a single father until further notice.

I'd initially opted to stay out of the meetings since I had my own plans to worry about, but after I'd finally spilled the beans to Luke about that boy I'd seen in the sewers a few days ago, he'd implored me to come share intel with the rest of the group. It'd been awkward as fuck at first, with me being completely out of my comfort zone by speaking so openly about these things. And all the bad news I'd shared likely didn't win me any big favours. But while I still thought the whole group dynamic was a disaster waiting to happen, at least some of the people appeared to appreciate my insight.

That was yesterday, though. I hadn't been feeling particularly chatty tonight. Too much on my mind.

My breath came out as a faint mist in the air as I wrapped my arms around myself like a cocoon. Laying on my back and staring up through the panels into the cloudy sky, I contemplated exactly what I was gonna do tomorrow. I'd finally gotten enough pull for Carver to trust me with an early evening shift patrolling some of the residence areas, and I was trying to figure out how exactly I was gonna do this.

I hadn't noticed that an old, bearded man had come strolling up to me until he cleared his throat.

"You know Clem, don't you?" Kenny asked with a skeptical look. The intermittent waves of light from the heater had cast his face in a somber, low glow, and it was difficult to make him out as I sat up straighter.

Wrapping my arms around my knees, I gave him a once-over as shadows jumped up and down his green winter jacket. "That girl you guys were with? Just by name, sure," I told him, not wanting to divulge too much to this man when I knew so little about him.

Shaking his head, Kenny folded his arms across his chest as part of his greying beard blew in the breeze. "Cut the shit. I saw how you reacted the first day you got here. When Luke mentioned her name," he reminded me, rolling his eyes as my lips thinned. "You met her before, I could tell. Out in the woods somewhere, I bet," he went on assuming, only growing more serious as I waited for him to provide an actual reason for this conversation. "Ain't no way you'd have looked that concerned about it unless you'd seen her."

"How would you know? Maybe I just don't like child-snatching assholes."

"And maybe I don't enjoy being jerked around when all I'm looking for is a yes or no answer."

"What's with the interrogation here, dude? If you've got something to ask me, do it already," I demanded sharply, already getting fed up with the passive-aggressive nature of this unwarranted visit. I was already dealing with enough mental baggage for the week and I didn't need the third degree being thickly laid on me here. Kenny put his finger to his lips as we both looked back towards the group, but thankfully they were all passed out after a long day's slavery and didn't stir.

"…you're on lookout duty tomorrow night, right?" he went with instead as I reluctantly nodded. He hesitated for a moment, almost leading me to believe that he might've changed his mind and forget this whole chat ever happened (which frankly I would've been fine with), but his rough voice continued. "I need you to talk to Mike for me – get him to cover you in case anything goes wrong. _I_ can't walk around out there… but maybe you can. Clem's gotta be in one of the campus buildings, I'm sure of it."

So _that's_ what he was after – a second person on his merry pursuit of the illusive Clementine. I wasn't exactly surprised that he'd be looking for her, since the girl obviously had some sort of connection with the old coot that must've stretched back for a while, but I definitely didn't think Kenny would've turned to me for help of all people.

Not that I got the slightest impression that he really got along with anybody in this sorry excuse of a group, but still. The guy must've been feeling pretty desperate to choose a complete stranger to oversee this espionage mission.

Still, I retained a healthy dose of skepticism. I couldn't shake the feeling that beneath the "don't-fuck-with-me" veneer and the determined, hot-headed persona laid a shell of a broken man. This was a guy who'd literally just lost his girlfriend maybe, what? A little over a week ago? And clearly he was still grieving from the loss – not thinking straight, wanting to pop ma cap in Carver's skull without really considering the fact that it was literally impossible for us to take on this whole crew by ourselves.

What he was asking me now wasn't crazy, and I knew that. I'd originally been thinking about doing something similar.

But as I nodded and told him that I'd keep an eye out, half-listening to his ramblings about how the rest of the group didn't have the balls to act on anything, I started to think about two potential problems. First, there was absolutely no guarantee that I wouldn't get caught. Mike, for all his talk of what messed-up thing Carver was bound to do next, was still a part of his group. The easiest thing for him to do would feel obligated to report my scrawny ass and get me strung up over a flag pole for the rest of my days – nothing would say "school spirit" quite like my walker-deformed face belching out an undead version of the national anthem with Troy proudly standing by my corpse.

The looming, more long-term issue I pondered over, though, was standing right in front of me. I'd seen the look of a man with nothing to lose once before, back in DC. Jaime and I had stayed in this cab company office during the initial outbreak, during which one of the drivers had subsequently lost his entire immediate family and several close friends within the span of a couple of days. He'd seemed nice at first, joking around with my sister and helping me go on supply runs throughout the outskirts of the city. But once he lost that connection… once he lost the one thing on this planet that kept him fighting to draw breath for another day… he'd lost _himself._

I could recount the screams of agony, all the bullshit he put our surviving group members through as he carelessly got them all killed, one by one. Walking right out into the middle of a crosswalk, hiding under a car from a dozen walkers as he finally fucking realized that he wasn't as amicable to dying as he'd initially believed.

By that point, it was all too late. In his grief, rational thought had all but left him, and the rest of us paid for it. The guy turned… ripped the neck right out of this old lady. One more body for the pile of shitty mistakes he'd made in his final moments.

I still remember the look on that woman's face as she died – just staring up at the sky, like she was watching a bird.

Maybe Kenny was going down the same path. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe this would eventually all blow over, and all of my worries would be for nothing.

But I didn't want to find out what would happen if I came back, and Clementine was already dead.

"…so don't make me regret this," he pointed at me, gritting his teeth when he noticed I hadn't really been paying too much attention. "Clem's life is ridin' on this, Jane. You'd better have that as your top priority."

"And then what do you want me to do? Bring her back here? Stuff her in the corner and try to hide her from the guards?" I hissed after him, watching his slowly retreating form as he kept his back to me.

"Whatever it is you do," he finally turned, the light from the heater making his eyes seem like they were on fire, "I'd suggest you make sure it's in her best interests. And that ain't a term I use lightly. Remember that."

Kenny settled back onto his mat and placed his fishing cap on the floor, leaving me to stew in my own thoughts as I stared at the ceiling; twirling my knife around in my hand and trying to ignore the lingering fears in my mind. How Clementine had ever voluntarily traveled with a man like that was beyond my comprehension, but I had no doubts about where I stood with the guy right now.

Clementine was the only thread that tied Kenny and I together, and even if it meant going along with this reckless man's ideas, at some point I knew it was only going to be a matter of time before something went horribly wrong. I couldn't help but think back to our previous conversations about leaving this group behind, and how Clem, just wanting to help everyone and wishing people would get along, would try and convince me otherwise.

With friends like Kenny, I had to wonder whether this had been drilled into her head at a young age.

Sighing as a bitter, early-winter wind crept down from the exposed ceiling, I absentmindedly rubbed a pattern on the glove Clementine had shared with me and brought my jacket collar up higher to my neck. One way or another, tomorrow I was finding that girl.

* * *

 

"Are you fucking serious?" Mike asked me the next evening, keeping his voice to a hush as he put on a fake smile and nod to Howie as he walked past. Once the guy was out of earshot again, Mike rubbed his temple as if nursing an oncoming headache, which I found to be pretty reasonable considering the unusual request I was making. "Lemme get this straight," he started, "you want me to cover your half of the area – your _first lookout shift,_ by the way – just so you can go sneaking around the school to look for a girl that might not even be there?"

"Do you know where she is?" I pressed, trying to diverge the conversation into a more agreeable tone.

Mike wasn't really swayed too much, though. "I have no idea. Honest, Jane – I'd tell you if I did," he insisted, holding his hands up in surrender as I cast him a distrusting frown. "Bill never gives us too much info on anything. He got so damn paranoid after Howe's that he almost refuses to acknowledge people outside his little circle of pals – Tavia, Troy and a couple others, mostly."

Grimacing, I folded my arms across my chest in concern. If Mike wasn't sure, then I'd have to do some sleuthing on my own terms, and I barely knew my way around the main part of the campus let alone these residence buildings. I'd rather have gotten stabbed in the chest with my own knife than even breathe the same air as Troy, so asking him was out of the question.

Maybe I could try a different approach.

"What do you know about the Pit?" I casually asked, leaning against the wall as if it was no big deal. By the way that Mike visibly recoiled at that, I knew I had hit something vulnerable.

"How… how do you know about that?"

"Some of the douche-nozzles here are a chatty bunch. Didn't take much for Kenny to hear him weasel that one out to one of his co-workers."

"…that guy shouldn't have said anything." "What is it, Mike? I saw that gibberish on the walls – they keep mentioning it like it's the be-all, end-all for crazed hallucinations," I told him, watching as he shut his eyes and seeing the fight leave him while he rubbed his bald head. "It's hell on earth, that's what it is," he vaguely responded, pointing down the hallway to the emergency exit. "Look, if you're absolutely sure about this, I won't stop you. But just remember: it's both of our asses on the line, here. If you get caught, we'll be begging for Carver to just kill us and get it over with. What you're looking for is over in the central wing – go past the library, and head into the utilities building. Head up the stairs, and look for the indoor walkway."

Nodding my thanks, I kept my canter to a light jog as to not alert the other guards in the area, and made it over to the door when Mike hollered out again.

"Jane… if she's in that place? If she's doing what I think Carver has her doing?" he gulped, staring at me nervously. "…you'd better hope that gun of yours has enough bullets left."

* * *

 

Heart pounding, palms sweating and knees shaking, I struggled to catch my breath as I quickly hid behind one of the concrete walls of the utilities building. I hadn't exactly been keeping a head count of all the people Carver had under his employ, but I hadn't expected them to be so spread out and covering the entire length of NCS. I'd barely managed to sneak my way through without being caught by Tavia as she scouted the perimeter.

The stars had started to dot the night sky as I poked my head around the corner, silently cursing Troy for having flicked the power back on now that some of the spotlights were up and running. Only one of them was being actively controlled as the guard occasionally swished the light back and forth, but it didn't make me feel any safer to be sticking around here for too long.

This area, though… there seemed to be a lot more people on patrol than in certain other locations around campus, with a special focus on this building in particular.

_Must be the place,_ I thought to myself, quickly darting back behind cover as the spotlight shone over.

Normally I would've tried to pick the lock of the main entrance to this venue, but these definitely weren't normal circumstances. I didn't have a nail file on hand, and even if I did, there was a high chance of me getting caught red-handed if I'd waited around long enough, so that wasn't an option.

Biting my lip in thought, I debated forgoing stealth altogether and just shooting my way in with the gun I'd been given for patrol duty when I spotted it – a window on the second level, partially open and primed for a quick entrance for the one who required it. There wasn't a ladder anywhere, but there was an eavestrough on the corner and a small tree overlooking it. I wasn't excited about the prospect of dying on account of a free climb, but if I'd come all this way, I'd at least need to take a look.

This whole cult business had been driving me nuts the past few nights, and while sleep had been a luxury I was ill-equipped to deal with lately, I certainly didn't have trouble seeing that… _thing,_ in my head. Whatever the fuck that sick shit was down in the tunnel. Killing walkers was necessary to live, sure, but hand-placed corpses and slaughter was something that, I was willing to admit, frightened me. I'd always pictured the end of the world bringing out some of the crazies from the woodwork, but damn… it was like they were literally _everywhere_ these days.

That boy was what kept me tossing and turning, though. He'd clearly been following us for some time and tracking what we were doing, but somehow the thought of somebody stalking us for no reason other than to watch made my stomach queasy. Whether he would live up to that threat of nine days or not was questionable, but I couldn't help but worry. And what the hell was going to happen, anyways? Would they chant some fucked-up poetry at us until we surrendered?

Stifling those thoughts for the meantime, I hurriedly climbed up to an overhanging tree branch and braced myself as I jumped to the eavestrough. A dull pain shot up my leg as I scraped my knee on the brick, and I quietly hissed as I made my ascent.

This thing was a steely rust bucket in certain sections, with the screws starting to come loose after years of neglect. The eavestrough groaned in protest as I scaled my way over to the ledge, accidentally kicking loose an exposed brick when I started to hear the muffled voices of Vince and Tavia coming this way.

_Shit, shit, shit!_ This wasn't good. If they'd spotted me pretending to be Spiderman up here on the wall, they'd shoot me down without giving it a thought.

There was no time to lose, and I had to think fast.

"Come on, Vince. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts now."

"After the week we've had? Hearing about all of those crazy folks living right underneath us?  _Shit,_ you bet I am."

"Shel, Becca and Wyatt made their choice… and it was the _wrong_ one. You know we're all safer in here," Tavia continued, pulling a lighter out of her pocket and lighting up her cigarette as Vince waved the smoke away from his face. "Unless, of course, you'd rather head back to that campsite I found you all in. Looked real cozy over there, all exposed and whatnot. I'm sure the fire was real nice."

"Alright, alright. Ass," Vince smirked, leaning against the brick wall just below my feet as I carefully starting sliding to the right. I heard him blow out a frosty breath of air before Tavia handed him the cigarette. "Just hope they're doing alright, wherever they are. It wasn't easy back then, y'know? Finding each other, getting along… surviving. We lost a lot of good people before we all met up."

I tried reaching over to an exposed pipe in order to get closer to the window, but I had to stretch my arm practically out of its socket just to even graze my fingertips along the thing. Hugging my body to the wall, I felt the cold brick along my cheek as my eyes laid upon just the thing I needed – that uncovered brick I'd walked by earlier. If I could grab a hold of that thing, it would've been just the distraction I –

"Hmm… As I recall, it wasn't exactly easy convincing you all to come with me, either. You all looked at me like I had a second head that day."

"Was too good to be true, at the time. I mean, you show up out of nowhere, claim that you've got a safe haven with literally everything we needed, and just expected us to trust you?"

"Well it worked, didn't it?" she pressed with a chuckle. I bent over, careful to keep my balance as I almost slipped off the ledge, and grasped the exposed brick. "Guess my negotiating skills were up to snuff after all."

"Heh. Yeah. At least that day, anyways."

My left arm wasn't the dominant one, and I wasn't exactly confident in my throwing ability in the first place, but it'd have to do if I wanted to distract these guys. Grunting to myself, I lifted up the brick, leaned my arm back…

"…is it your turn to watch the kid?"

"Nope. Troy's got it tonight."

…and stopped myself for a brief second, ears perking up as I tried to listen in on what they were saying.

Vince ran a hand through his hair before flicking the cigarette and stamping it out with his shoe. "Aren't you the least bit uncomfortable with this? I get that she nearly killed Bill, but this shit? It's fucked up, even for him."

_Clementine!_

Tavia shook her head in protest, but even she looked like she had some reservations about… whatever it is they were speaking of. "Bill's… got a handle on this. It's for the best. Besides, I didn't think you'd be feeling a whole lot of sympathy for someone who almost single-handedly brought down Howe's."

"She wasn't the only one, Tavia. You and I both know those pricks in the gym were just as responsible."

"So what, then? You think we should just kill them all and be done with it?"

"I…" Vince stammered, placing his hands in his pockets as he shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. Might be a better way to go than forcing them into the Pit. What the fuck is that thing even doing in a place like this, anyways?"

"I find it's easier to just not think about it. Besides," she continued, starting to head back out to the pavement as she cradled her automatic rifle, "Bill says it's gonna shape the kid for the better in the long run. Keep her in line, build character or something, I don't know. The sooner she understands that, the safer she'll be."

"…fuck, man. If you say so."

"I _know_ so. Look, Vince, as long as those nasty, rotting fuckers are down in that hellhole, we don't have to worry about them. Cultists or not," she reasoned, placing a hand on her hip. "Just be thankful that none of us have to go down and keep them all that way."

Anxiety shooting through the roof, I'd heard more than enough of this crap as I finally launched the brick as hard as I could off to the side. It wasn't a perfect toss, and probably could've done with a longer distance from my location, but the ploy worked – Vince and Tavia were immediately on edge.

"The hell was that?" Vince questioned as they both raised their weapons defensively.

Tavia took the safety off of her gun as she slowly crept towards the noise. "I'll check it out," she told him. "You hang back and cover me. Watch out in case anything tries to sneak up on us."

"Sure. Go nuts."

With Tavia successfully out of the way, I sighed a bit in relief as I finally worked my way over to the open window, hoping against hope that Clementine would be alright.

Jesus Christ, kid. After all this, you'd better have been.

* * *

 

Sticking the landing with my face as I spluttered and pushed myself off the floor, I squinted my eyes and tried to make out exactly which direction to go through down this long, dark passageway. I knew that the vestibule downstairs would probably lead to the place I was looking for faster, but if Mike insisted that I look for some walkway in here instead, then I guessed I'd have to follow his judgment.

This utilities building must've been used by some of the engineering students back in the day, if some of the old class photos and letters of recognition were anything to go by. Classes of 2000, 2001, 2002 and so on were hung up proudly in the display cases, and although a thin layer of dust covered many of the weathered frames, this area looked relatively untouched. You'd almost never have realized that the world had ended outside if you'd been stuck inside of this place for the past three years.

No bodies, no blood, no mischief… there wasn't even a scrap of litter marking the floor, which somehow only made it seem a little creepier in some respect. I'd expected a place as menacing-sounding as this to be covered in walkers, gore and other shit, but the previous owners of this building must've kept things pretty nice and tidy for the most part.

Every step I took echoed as I made my way further in. Turning my head around every few seconds just to make sure I hadn't been tailed, I poked my head through a door labelled "ELECTRICAL ENGINEERING LAB" and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind me. This room hadn't seen much use, either, with microscopes sitting idly on the various desks with beakers, hot plates, a periodic table and various other electronic gizmos and gadgets that had long since run out of juice. There was a lesson plan still up on one of the chalkboards which I couldn't make heads or tails of, but I did notice something else up on the other chalkboard.

_That which we have reclaimed_

_Shall soon be thrust back into darkness_

_Go now into the abyss_

_For we._

_Shall._

_Not._

_Linger._

_Welcome, children of the new world._

_The pit awaits._

_As do we._

Tossing a piece of chalk at the wall in anger, I lightly slammed my fist against one of the desks and pulled my gun out of its holster. I was way past simply being fed up with this crap – this was the work of a sociopath. There were very few times in my life that I could recall being as terrified as I was feeling right then; feeling completely helpless, at a loss and worried deep down within my very bones. I couldn't keep my hands from shaking as I shut my eyes and leaned against the desk, panting heavily and trying (more like failing) to regain some kind of composure over myself.

This whole place was an absolute nightmare. It had to be. Any second now, I was wishing that I'd just wake up and be done with all of this. I wanted to just open my eyes, stare up at the clouds and find myself laying back in that makeshift campsite out in the woods with Clem. No cults, no Carver, no bullshit. Just us, and the world around us.

"Why did you have to follow them…" I whispered aloud, grating my teeth and staring at the strange encryption in disbelief. "We could've avoided this, Clementine. _You_ could've. We could've put this place behind us, left and never come back. Why didn't you just fucking listen to m- "

Stopping my mini-tirade all of a sudden, I turned my head to the side as I heard a noise coming from the teacher's desk. A small globe was perched up there, spinning ever so slightly on its own as I frowned in confusion. If there was no wind coming in through here, then why was this thing moving?

_…grack… blargh! … gregh…_

It was faint, that sound, but more than enough to take my focus away from the big, blue marble as I hurried over to the wall. Placing my ear against it, my eyes grew wide in concern as I could hear that all-too familiar symphony upon the other side.

_Shit, fuck, shit!_

Frantically searching around, I stomped my foot in frustration until I finally caught a glimpse of a door hidden away by one of the bookcases, clearly hand-placed there to keep people out. _Or something else **in** ,_ I thought miserably, struggling to shove the structure away as it scraped along the floor. Once that was moved away, I tried pushing my way past, only to have to do it again and again as it didn't budge.

Only upon the fifth jab did I finally manage to break through, cringing at how loud I was being as the walkway finally became visible. There was a row of windows looking outwards to this absolutely massive room, with old, peeling paint falling off the walls and a "Good Luck, Seniors!" poster hanging by a thread as it flew side to side.

Sticking my nose up against the glass, my throat ran dry as I chanced a look down below.

Walkers were literally _everywhere._ There had to have been at least a few hundred down in that hole, and those were only the ones I could see from this angle. Their groaning, decaying bodies aimlessly dragged themselves to and fro, focused on nothing but their unsatiated hunger as they marched in circles. Many of them seemed to have been dead for quite a while if the state of their raggedy clothes was any indication, and in the middle of their herd I could barely make out the skeletal remains of several animals and people; left for scraps as their bones were kicked around and forgotten.

My breath hitched in my throat, though, when I finally spied upon the person I'd been searching for over the past week.

Clementine, covered head to toe in walker guts and blood, looked absolutely despondent as she trudged into the middle of their pack. She wasn't dead, thank god, but her amber eyes were heavily sunk in and her normally-scrawny frame looked as though it could barely hold the clothes upon her back. The girl was completely zapped of energy as she bumped into several walkers to make her way to the front, and although I could tell that she probably hadn't slept in days, there was no masking the way her knuckles turned white or how her knees were nearly buckling with each step inside the place.

Terrified. Demonstrably so. Honestly, I probably would've been even more worried if she hadn't been.

Part of me wanted to bang on the glass, to get her attention and let her know that I'd seen her, but I quickly silenced that part of myself. Doing so would only get the undead's attention, and Clem would've become a light snack in seconds flat. I settled with placing my hand lightly upon the glass as my breath fogged it up with each passing second.

In her hands was an old steel bucket, blackened with the stains of walker blood as she tried to carefully wrestle its contents away from a greedy walker as she strode past. Once satisfied with her location, Clementine dumped the cargo onto the floor – a raw, bloody mess of some kind of animal innards – and carefully backed up against the wall while the walkers mauled their newly-found prey. She inched her way to the side, careful not to bring too much attention to herself as she made her way back to some sort of cage.

Head lowered, she placed the bucket down onto the floor, opened the mini jail cell and sat inside; enclosing herself back within. She laid down in the fetal position and held her ball cap tightly against her chest as she squeezed her eyes firmly shut and placed her hands on her ears, though there was no possible way to block out all of that death.

The pit awaits, indeed.

Bile crept up my throat as I struggled to push it back down. There was essentially nothing I could do for her from here, only watch in horror as she was trapped like a beast in a cage with the very things that could rip her to pieces. That kind of environment would traumatize anybody, let alone an eleven-year-old kid. I knew she was tough, but I didn't even want to begin thinking about what was going through in her young mind.

This was all Carver's doing. I knew that much. Carver, Troy, Tavia, and all the rest of those fucking assholes that kept her cooped up in this shithole were responsible for this. I knew people were shit – they had been before the outbreak, too, only with fake smiles and phony excuses for their shitty behaviour. But now? Here? This took it to a new low. Just when I thought I'd had people figured out, they went ahead and made themselves even worse. I wasn't fully cognizant of just how unbelievably cruel some of them could be.

My eyes were glued to the child, forced to grow up well before her time, and felt nothing but anger. Guilt. Pity. All the things that I knew didn't describe the little ball of sunshine that I'd stumbled upon all those days ago, yet that was the best way I could describe it.

I was so caught up in my shock at the horrific display, however, that I didn't notice the door on the other end of the walkway open before it was far too late.

"The fuck do you think yer doin'?!" Troy snarled, aiming his rifle at me before I had time to aim my own weapon back. Believe me, I wanted to. Badly. "You ain't supposed to be in here! I knew Mike was fuckin' lyin' to me! That piece o' shit!"

"…what the hell is going on down there?" I asked, pointing over towards the windows and demanding an explanation. I felt bad that Mike had been caught up in my little scheme, but I had bigger things to worry about right now. Troy peered over disinterestedly, almost like he was just making sure Clem was doing her job, and turned back to me.

"Ain't none of yer concern, that's for sure," he rebutted. Walking closer towards me, I tried to keep my distance until he had trapped me near the door back to the electrical lab. "Fuckin' knew you were gonna be nothin' but trouble… Ever since you got here, you've been up to nothin' but shady shit. Lurkin' about, peerin' into everyone's business… and now look at ya! Caught red-handed in a restricted area! Can't wait to see the look on Bill's face when he finds out 'bout this."

Troy must've noticed my look of alarm, since he rolled his eyes and scoffed at me.

"What'd you think was gonna happen here? Huh? Think you can just do whatever the hell you want, pranicin' about all willy-nilly without no one carin'? Sorry to disappoint ya, but that ain't how shit works around here," he rambled on, chuckling to himself with a shake of his head when I closed my mouth. "Fuckin' unbelievable. And here I was, thinkin' that maybe, just maybe, you'd be able to shut up, do as your told and not cause any problems. But nope – turns out you're just a dumb fuckin' cunt. That's right, Jane – stupid. Fuckin'. Cun – "

Cut off as I kneed him in the stomach, Troy was winded only for a second as he roughly grabbed me by the shoulder and slammed my back into the window.

"You wanna end up down there, too?! That what you're after?!" Troy snapped vehemently. His grip only grew rougher on my skin as I grunted, wanting to grab my knife but unable to as Troy knocked my other hand away.

After what seemed like an eternity, however, his eyes lost their flaring anger and was replaced by… hunger, maybe? Lust?

Licking his lips, Troy released his grip as I shivered in disturbance. I fucking knew that look, I'd seen it before on many an asshole at the bar back home, and while back then it was usually just some drunk douchebag looking for a quick kill, this man was very much sober.

I could tell what he wanted without even having to hear him speak.

"How's about I cut you a deal here, Jane?" he manically proposed, with me unable to believe the nerve of this guy as I rubbed my shoulder in discomfort. "I won't tell Bill about this. Any of it – my lips'll be sealed. As long as you… y'know, _play ball_ a little."

Christ… this slimy, little predator was actually for it, despite all of the crap that had just occurred. He had to have known that I had zero interest in this, but even though I was beyond disgusted, I could tell that he was taking this seriously.

Sneaking a glance back at Clem, who hadn't really moved from her spot the entire time, I felt my hand clench into a fist as I mentally kicked myself.

I was fucking trapped into this arrangement. Trapped by a goddamn degenerate with a happy trigger finger.

"I'll even throw in an incentive," he whispered into my ear, his nasally breath and creepy touch sending a chill down my spine. "You play along… and I'll convince Bill to let you out of that gym. No more cold nights, or shitty mats. You'd get regular duties, hot meals, and a nice, warm bed… well, preferably _mine,_ but I can be reasonable."

Placing my hand gingerly upon the glass, I shut my eyes and lowered my head a little as reality started hitting me in the face. No way did I want this, but with the alternative being for me to get kicked out of here without Clem or _worse,_ I couldn't help but think that there was no way out.

"So… what's it gonna be, Jane? Clock's tickin'," he warned as I gazed upon Clem one last time, having made my mind up as the walkers tore apart their meal.


	8. Honesty

Another day, another notch in the belt of my seemingly meager existence.

At least, that's what it felt like to be staying here at NCS. Everything I did, every mind-numbing task that I finished and patrol that I wrapped up, it all seemed to be leading me nowhere. And no amount of work could distract me from the ever-increasing dread that counted down like a timer with each passing day.

It'd now been seven days since I'd seen that little boy, and I was constantly feeling as though I was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

Not that most of the people around me shared these concerns. Who was gonna believe some girl who'd just shown up at their door not even two weeks ago, clamoring on about a bunch of crazed tunnel-folk who might've been bold enough to make good on their promise and kill us all in their sleep?

Nah. That couldn't be true. Just ignore her. Jane and her hysterical mutterings.

They'd had me working with a kid named Russell today to work on some of our defenses. The guy seemed to be very reserved, not egging me on for conversation and only really saying anything when absolutely necessary, which was just fine with me. I wasn't the most competent person to be working with tools, but keeping my hands busy for most of the afternoon did wonders for some well-needed alone time.

Hammering in sheet metal all day for a sniper's nest was hot work, let me tell you. Blisters had formed on the ends of my already-calloused fingertips, and although I knew well enough that poking at them would only leave me with scars, it was a bit of a hard habit to break. We'd collected a shipment of corrugated scrap from the college's auto shop and set about making a sort of shield for one of the watchtowers. I wasn't too keen on the idea seeing's how I had… _alternative_ wishes for this place, but I was well on my way to earning myself a slightly respectable standing here, and I didn't want that to go to waste over a few hours of manual labour.

Despite actually having felt somewhat fulfilled with the honest day's work I'd put in, though, I felt dirty. Unwashed. Unkempt. I wanted to rip off my own skin and put on a new layer, since no matter how many times I washed my hands, they never felt clean. And no, it wasn't the fact that I'd spent the afternoon working my ass off with no deodorant in sight.

It was, in fact, as my stomach churned with every passing glance he sent my way, the arrangement we'd struck the other night. I felt exposed to the other survivors here, with a big, neon sign exclaiming in bold letters that I was now unwillingly sleeping with the biggest sleazeball in the entire complex. It didn't matter if nothing had happened yet below the belt, since people absolutely _loved_ to gossip. It was probably the most exciting thing in their day around here when nothing else was going on. You couldn't miss the stares that people were giving… looking me up and down, examining me like I was stripping naked right in front of their faces. At first I'd glared at them venomously, but as more and more of the guards started to take notice, I started to feel much more vulnerable and insecure. Word spread around this place like a disease, and I had no doubt that Troy had told every onlooker exactly what was going on.

In that fleeting moment, I wanted to drench the guy in gasoline and watch him light up like a bonfire. Hell, I'd probably end up doing the exact same thing to myself, just to spare myself the "slut" remarks I knew would be coming soon enough.

Thankfully, most of the people in the gym hadn't been told yet, or were willingly ignoring the fact just to have mercy upon my soul (not that I actually believed that). Luke had invited me to join their little circle tonight, and even though I was feeling a little skittish, it was actually kind of a nice reprieve in a strange sort of way.

Kenny had been quiet all night. He wasn't stewing in the corner or anything, but he'd just been staring into the low-burning heater for the past hour as Rebecca, Nick and Luke chatted amongst themselves. I'd told them all what I saw the other night with Clem, figuring it'd be better coming from me, and the mood had turned sour as they as a group collectively darkened.

Ever since the night I saw her, my eyes became glued in the direction of the utilities building. The Pit ended up being about as shitty of a place as I'd expected, but for Clementine to basically be _living_ in there was beyond unacceptable. I wouldn't have wished that on even my worst enemy, and yet here Carver was, sending an eleven-year-old girl to die in a glorified walker toilet.

It was killing me inside, not being able to do anything about it. My hands were tied here, what with Troy holding an anvil over my head if I even tried to act out again and disobey his _fuhrer's_ orders. He knew that he had me right where he wanted, and despite our agreement only having lasted a night so far, already the dick was taking full advantage of the fact.

I was fucked. And if Troy was going to have his way, I'd probably be even more so.

_In more ways than one,_ I thought to myself with a sickening realization, shutting my eyes and briefly cutting myself off from the rest of the world if only for a fleeting moment.

Contrary to the beliefs of my parents once upon a time, I didn't seek solitude out of some deep, pathological desire to tune out friends and family just because I wanted to. Thoughts in my head were loud – obnoxious, really, and constantly buzzing around in there. I'd find myself staying wide awake on most nights, staring up at the ceiling and worrying about all the hypothetical possibilities and dangers which deep down, at the time, at least, I knew would never come to fruition. There wasn't a whole lot else to do when you were resting, so my fabulous brain would come up with all sorts of brilliant scenarios of how my shitty-ass life was, to quote the Fresh Prince, about to be flipped, turned upside-down.

Mom had tried taking me to counselling a few times, even persuaded our family doctor to try prescribing me some lorazepam pills for a few months before I'd given up on both processes altogether. The drugs felt like a temporary relief at best, and for every anxiety session I went to, the more pissed off I became at just how many crackpot clinicians tried to tell me about every single, little problem I was creating for myself. Instead of, oh, I dunno, actually providing me solutions with reasonable goals to achieve.

So yeah. Occasionally, to clear my head and get away from all the "flim-flam, hooey-malarkey" of the outside world, as Gramps used to say, I'd retreat back into my own reclusiveness. If that made me a weirdo, then fuck it – I'd be the biggest weirdo I knew, for all I cared.

Better to be a weirdo and satisfied, than to go through the motions and feel miserable about myself all the time.

None of these guys really seemed to mind this trait I'd developed over the years, at least at a glance. That made sense, I supposed. Everyone had their own grief, their own demons to work out and deal with, and they did so in different ways.

And I didn't need to be a genius to figure these guys out, really. Alvin was the good-natured one, trying to look for the best in people and giving them the benefit of the doubt… although the dude definitely had a dark side, hidden away until things got too heavy for him to cope properly. Tempering that out would be his wife, Rebecca, who, despite coming off as a bit brash at times, was very goal-driven and practical when she needed to be. Being away from their newborn son, however, was definitely taking its toll on them.

Luke and Nick, for all their bickering that they'd been doing over the past several days, really cared about each other at the end of the day. I hadn't gotten to talk to Nick really, since we both seemed to get a sense that the other wanted to be left well-enough alone, but occasionally I'd catch him staring wistfully out into nothing with a perpetual frown etched onto his face. Sometimes Luke would come over and sit beside him, talking in hushed tones about days gone by and trying his best to cheer up his old pal. Luke really seemed to be the anchor for the group; the tether that kept them from drifting out into an ocean of despair. But even he had his limits, and although he was often trying to crack jokes and keep the mood lighthearted around the gymnasium into the small hours of the evening, Luke's cheerful façade was usually just that – a _façade._ I'd never been a leader of any kind before, but a small part of me felt bad that the guy had placed that burden upon himself under almost insurmountable odds.

Carlos… well, he was more difficult to get a read on, I'd admit. Every time that I looked at him, I could see heavy bags under his eyes from too many sleepless nights, and aside from the brief chat I'd seen Kenny provide a while back, Carlos hadn't spoken a word. Luke had told me bits and pieces of what had happened before, mostly having to do with his daughter, Sarah, having been killed only a little while ago, and that it was what triggered this sudden shift in behaviour. I hadn't asked him for details, but the guy had mentioned that Sarah, despite apparently being a pretty uplifting spirit for their group at the time, had been far too sheltered, and far too unprepared for the shit that came out of this world.

Luke had asked me if I was alright when he mentioned that part, noticing how I had quietly hissed an intake of breath… but I ended up just shaking my head and changing the subject. There were still certain things I'd have rather kept close to the chest, and that hit a little too close to home. Sarah's situation was an all too familiar concept.

And lastly, we had the enigma of the group. The one, the only –

"Mind if we have a word?"

It came as a surprise, when, as I had my hands up close to the tiny furnace, rubbing them together to try for some semblance of warmth, the old fisherman made his way to stand beside me. I hadn't even noticed the guy while I was busy internalizing all of this shit. Luke glanced up at us, frowning – out of concern or suspicion, I wasn't quite sure – while I gulped and reluctantly nodded my head.

Leading the way over to the bleachers, Kenny exhaled a stale breath as he sat upon the grandstand, waiting to speak until I too sat down a few feet away from him. "Look… about Clem," he started with a sigh. I'd fully expected him to berate me for not heading down there and getting her to safety, or even to really make an attempt at some kind of rescue, but curiously he did none of those things. "Never got around to saying this earlier, but umm… thank you," he mumbled, catching me off guard as my eyebrows nearly shot to the top of my forehead. He waved off my shock with a flick of the wrist and itched at his greying beard. "Don't go getting' all sappy on me here, Jane. I just…"

"…y-yeah, no problem… I get it."

Clearly he hadn't expected me to respond by the way his brow arched, but he quickly shook it off before staring out through the skylight and up at the darkened night air. "I'm rightly pissed off about where she is, what she's goin' through… but at least now we know for sure."

Grimacing, I clamped and unclamped my fist a few times as I stared at the unlit exit sign. "Still though, just knowing about it won't bring her back."

"It's a _start,_ " he countered, placing his hands in his coat pockets. "And with all the shit we've been through lately? A start might just be the thing we need to light a fire under everyone's ass. We've been cooped up in here for too long – folks are startin' to get complacent."

He'd opened his mouth to say more, but stopped suddenly as Kenny rolled his eyes and turned towards Luke. "You about ready to do somethin' there, boy? Or were you just gonna keep on starin' at me?"

"You know just as well as I do that your plan won't work, Kenny. This ain't the same as Howe's – we don't know the layout nearly as well, and the circumstances are completely different," Luke argued, quickly apologizing to Rebecca when she shushed him to not wake up the slumbering Alvin. "We just gotta bide our time, wait for an openin'. And I know this ain't what you wanna hear right now, but if we play our cards right, maybe he'll let Clem out on his own terms…"

"Or she'll get her fuckin' throat ripped out by an army of walkers!"

"We don't know that! Christ, man… Bonnie said yesterday she saw the kid walkin' out in the halls with an escort! Carver's an asshole, but he's not keepin' Clem down there twenty-four-seven!"

"That doesn't make it okay, though, Luke," Nick reasoned, still limping a bit when he noticed what all the commotion was about. "Clem's life is on the line here… she's one of us, man. And you know that if the roles were reversed, if it was you down there in a hole filled with walkers, she'd be fightin' tooth and nail to get you out."

Nearly pulling his hair out of his own head, Luke huffed and placed his hands on his hips. "I know that! And I know it don't make it alright! I never said it _did!_ But in case y'all forgot," he shouted, trying to calm himself down to explain himself to the disbelieving group, "I ran things with Bill, once upon a time. Back when all this shit started. He's cruel, but he ain't completely unreasonable. If we keep helpin' out around here and keep up appearances, we can get her back without any more bloodshed."

Everyone stared a hole through his orange sweater, and the distance between all of us seemed to expand on its own accord from our differing opinions alone. The guy was choking up a bit when he chanced a look upon Carlos' face, and all at once, the tone of the conversation seemed to be directed at the Hispanic man alone.

"We can't lose anyone else, y'all… We… we just can't…"

Luke was grasping at straws with his argument, I knew. They might've had history together, in fact I was sure that he'd known most of this crew for quite a few years at this point, but you couldn't trust Carver to give up his stranglehold over them by essentially just being nice and playing by his rules. If he was willing to risk sacrificing a child after having branded, manipulated and tortured them, then there's no telling what else he might've been capable of doing.

Kenny was the one to break the ice after what felt like a lifetime of awkward silence. "Even if that were true… it don't matter if he ain't even willin' to come down and talk to us," he maintained. "And if fightin' our way out means that a few of us might die along the way? Then that's a chance that I'm willin' to – "

"Now hold on there a minute," Nick interjected, clearly not so eager to throw their lives away as I noticed Rebecca pondering over something.

"Guys, listen…"

"There's always gonna be an inherent risk involved! Every fucking day is a goddamn risk! The sooner you accept that, the better!"

"Yeah? 'Cause it's startin' to sound an awful lot like you don't give a shit about any of us around here, so long as it means we go along with whatever backwater plan you're ropin' us into!"

"You really gonna start dissecting every word I say here, Nick? Jesus!"

"That ain't a _no,_ Kenny!" Luke insinuated with a pointed finger.

"Guys!" Rebecca said a little louder, although with all the meaningless quarreling going on, I'd be surprised if she ever got a word in at all.

The older man had since stepped off the bleachers and stomped his way over to where Nick and Luke were standing, only to be held back by Carlos as I sat back and watched the fireworks.

"Really, Doc? You're takin' _their_ side on this?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side! But if we don't step back, take a breath and think rationally, then – "

"Then another little girl's gonna die! That's what'll fuckin' happen, and you know it! And do y'all really want another kid's blood on your hands here?!"

"GUYS!"

_SMACK!_

There were a couple of gasps from Rebecca and Alvin, who'd ended up awakening amongst all the ruckus, after that claim, and the flare in Kenny's eyes seemed to dim a little bit as it dawned on him the severity of what he'd just suggested.

What nobody was really expecting, however, was for Carlos to reach back and punch the man right across the nose; shaking with anger as he swore at him in Spanish and started walking back to the other side of the gym. Luke tried in vain to place a hand upon the doctor's shoulder, but he was immediately shaken off and left to his own devices. Taking a knee and trying to stabilize himself, Kenny started to wipe away some of the blood that had dripped down his nostrils, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth while doing so.

Holy fucking shitballs. At this rate, Carver wouldn't even need to send in his goon squad to come and line us all up for a shooting gallery. With the amount of stress spreading around here like a virus, they'd end up all killing each other before the week was even out.

Suggesting that everyone try to get some sleep in the meantime, Alvin brought Kenny some tissues and tried his best to clean the guy up. He rolled a half-empty bottle of water that they'd collected from the campus' makeshift water supply my way as I nodded in thanks, unscrewing the cap and letting the liquid dampen my dry throat.

Seeing's how most of the place was pretty occupied at the moment, Rebecca sighed and made her way over to sit beside me, followed swiftly by Luke as she glared daggers at him. "Was getting into a fight _really_ necessary?"

"…I honestly didn't think it'd get that far."

"Well, you should've seen it coming," she persisted, laying her hands in her lap. "Read the room next time, Luke. We all need to be on the same page if we even want a chance to see the kids again."

_Speaking of which…_

"Did you think of something earlier?" I asked, remembering how she was trying to get everyone's attention. Hesitantly nodding, Rebecca cleared her throat and smiled at Alvin who'd given her a reassuring grin.

"Well… kind of," she admitted, looking off to the side wall. "Those tunnels you two went into – you said they ran out all over the city, right?"

"Uhh, y-yeah. Yes, technically. But Becs," Luke stuttered, realizing where she was going with this as he and I shared a look of dread. "You gotta understand – that place wasn't exactly rollin' out the welcome mat for us. Besides, if Jane here really did see one of those cultists down there, I don't think they'd be too thrilled about us musclin' in on their territory."

"Didn't you say that was a little boy, though? Couldn't it just have been some kid playing a prank? Some kid trying to scare us?"

"I'm not sure we can leave that to chance," I told her truthfully. Vivid flashbacks of the gory warnings, walkers and strange messages flooded my mind, not to mention that "death countdown" the child had given me before dashing away. "All the crap we saw down there was way too coordinated to just be him. Plus, with all the weird writings around campus, there's no way it's just one person. The question is who they are, and where they're hiding."

Alvin finished tending to Kenny and stood by Rebecca, wrapping his arm around her shoulders in a half hug. She relaxed a little bit into the contact, closing her eyes and nodding her head. "Makes sense, I guess. There're some real whack-jobs out in the world," she surmised, turning to look up at her husband as she seemed to remember something. "Al, didn't you say that you saw something, too? Some kind of drawing?"

I could almost see the lightbulb flash over his head as Alvin slowly nodded. He kind of appeared to be burdened with whatever it was he'd witnessed. "I was on food prep yesterday, and one of the old home-ec classrooms had a chalkboard with all this weird shit drawn on it. Couple of walker sketches, some weird map-looking thing – "

"What'd the map look like?" I cut him off, trying to visualize all of the pieces in my head.

"Bunch of nonsense, really. Just a whole lot of straight lines connected to different circles across the chalkboard. Didn't get to look at it for very long, but there were a bunch of letter P's written in the circles, and one giant triangle in the middle which had been crossed out a bunch of times," he explained, scratching at his chin in thought. "There was some kind of riddle type of deal, too… I only caught a quick glimpse, but I remember it saying something about a light bringing destruction? I dunno, sounded like a bunch of drug-induced paranoia to me."

"…your light will only bring destruction as we wait in the shadows…" Luke murmured as I shot my head towards him. The fear in his eyes was palpable, stricken into him and roped around in a vice. I felt my throat tighten up as he ended up repeating the phrase we'd both seen. "The pit awaits…"

"Yeah! That's the one," Alvin chimed in with a snap of his fingers, apparently oblivious to the danger. When he noticed the bleak looks upon our faces, he lightly patted Luke's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "Guys, c'mon… Don't tell me you're actually buying any of this. The people living here before were obviously crazy, but there's no way they're coming back. You said so yourself that all the tunnel entrances were sealed off."

Luke shivered despite himself. "Yeah… but that was only after we'd turned the lights on. _Your light will bring destruction_ – they didn't want us to turn the electricity back on. And two of the same threat? I reckon they mean business."

"More like ten threats at this point…" I mumbled, avoiding eye contact as Alvin tried to calm everybody's nerves.

"Well, frankly I still think it's all bullshit, but regardless, Rebecca's right. Those tunnels are our best bet out of here," he reasoned, snorting humourlessly as he pointed with his thumb to the exit. "Unless, of course, you'd rather just walk out the front door."

"We've gotta at least try it, guys. We'll sneak out Clem and AJ, and head out in the middle of the night," we heard Nick chime in from his spot on the mat. Even Kenny had nodded his acceptance at that, though he still didn't say anything. " _Tch,_ don't gimme that look, Luke! I'll be fine."

"You can barely walk, dude!"

"I'll tough it out – quit worryin' about me," Nick fought back, and Luke, seeing's how none of that was going to change his best friend's mind, slumped his shoulders and conceded.

"… I ain't likin' this at all, but if this is all we've got, then fine," he announced, turning to the rest of the group with a sad grin. "Yeah… alright, yeah. We can make this work somehow. We're all likely to be assigned more jobs in the mornin', so get some rest."

As the rest of the group dispersed for the evening, settling down onto their mattresses and trying to catch some shuteye, Luke collapsed onto the bleachers close to me and tiredly rubbed at his eyes.

Honestly, I didn't understand why he even bothered to try and be the one to pull this ragtag bunch of boneheads together. At one moment, they'd look like a tight-knit family ready to protect each other no matter what, and then the next they'd be fighting like cats and dogs. Pretty sure if I'd asked each one of them what colour the sky was, I'd probably end up getting about seven different answers – and there weren't even seven of them sitting here.

He wasn't looking at me, so I found myself giving him the once-over. Luke really didn't strike me as the leader type that he presented himself as. More than likely he'd been thrown into it, and just kind of had to stick with the gig once he realized that nobody else was really going to step up in that regard. Rebecca and Alvin had to be focused on AJ, Carlos was still in the grieving process, and from what I'd heard, Nick wasn't always the one to make clear, sound decisions. And Kenny? Well… I got the feeling that the rest of these guys wouldn't have listened to the majority of what that old man had to say.

Not that I could really say any differently, myself. I knew my limits, and being a bit of a loner for so long now meant that I was pretty much as approachable and charismatic as a pile of dirt. I was perfectly fine with that, though. As far as people went, there was nothing I'd appreciate more than to stand at least fifty yards away from most of them at all times.

Despite this, however, I'd actually kind of started feeling a little bit more at ease around the farm boy. He was pretty easy to talk to, and even though his boyish charm and goofy, albeit slightly annoying wit made it difficult for me to spend too much time in his presence, I found myself kind of impressed at the guy's optimism. With a smile and a friendly word, Luke could often make dire situations seem like they could and _would_ be okay. Like there was always hope, no matter what happened. That personality was kind of refreshing, if a bit naïve. I hadn't really thought that people like him still existed anymore, and I could admit that I was slightly drawn to it. _Slightly._

…plus, the guy was pretty easy on the eyes, too. With his wavy hair, his chocolate-coloured eyes, just the right amount of stubble, and…

… _ha._ Jesus. Nope. Not going down that road. Uh-uh. Not happening, Jane.

Me and my fucking mid-twenties hormones… Can't believe my own body was betraying me like this, goddamn…

Luke must've noticed me staring at him like an idiot, because the next thing I knew he smirked at me; grin only growing wider as I quickly turned away, frowned and felt my cheeks heat up like a little schoolgirl. He didn't tease me about any of it, thank god, but I did see his shoulders relax a little bit as he sighed into the night.

"Kinda hard to believe things are comin' together like this," he wistfully said, laying one arm over his knee. "Might sound strange, considerin' how Clem and AJ are still AWOL, but at least we've finally got a plan in our heads. It was lookin' a little hopeless around here for a while."

"Funny. Kenny had pretty much told me the same thing," I said without thinking, watching Luke's expression turn a little sour at the mention of his name. "You two seem to butt heads more than most."

Glancing off into the direction of the ex-fishing captain, who sat against the wall in the corner with his hat in his hands, Luke blew a quiet raspberry and shrugged. "We had… _different_ ideas of where we'd end up going after Howe's. I told everyone we should've just cut our losses and make for the countryside somewhere until we could find a place to settle in, but Kenny kept ramblin' on about Wellington and how it was gonna be this "safe haven" or whatever."

"Wellington?"

"Supposedly it's some big camp up near Michigan. Food, supplies, big walls. Never heard of it myself until he brought it up," he sighed, "but even if it wasn't a fairy tale, which it very well may be… I wasn't willin' to take that risk. We needed somethin' solid, somethin' _real._ We all deserved 'real' after Bill kidnapped us a couple months ago. An actual home, y'know?"

Nothing was said between us for a while, with the both of us seemingly content to listen to the muffled chirps of the crickets outside. The wind had been getting chillier with each passing day, and soon enough, much to my dissatisfaction, winter would soon be upon us. Not that I really expected it to snow in the middle of North Carolina of all places, but who knew, really? Crazier things had certainly happened.

Crazy shit happened all the time, these days.

"God, I hope the kid's alright," Luke suddenly whispered, bringing me back to the reason I'd still been terrified of going back to sleep. Bedtime had come with horrible nightmares last night, of Clem begging for her life as her arms were slowly munched on by those disgusting creatures down there. "I know Bonnie told me earlier that she was up n' about, but… I can't begin to imagine what's goin' through her head right now."

"…we can't leave her like that, Luke. Clementine doesn't deserve any of the shit Carver's done to her," I angrily stated, more to myself than to him as Luke turned back to face me. "We've got to get her out of there. Whatever it takes. I owe her that much."

I snuck a glance over at Luke when he didn't reply, and although his expression was mostly unreadable, I knew deep down that I'd given the game away. It didn't really bother me that Luke knew about my attachment to Clem now, too, but I was starting to worry that somehow I was losing my edge; that I was letting people get to know me too well and that I wasn't being as careful as I should've been.

That personality trait had been, as I had thought, partly what kept me alive for so long.

"So I guess you really did know her before then, huh?" he questioned, likely having suspected as much after hearing about my escapade over to the Pit. "You a distant cousin or somethin'?"

"…something like that."

_"Jane."_

_"Luke,"_ I mocked him, rolling my eyes and caving in only when he started giving me the puppy dog eyes that I was normally used to seeing on Clementine – certainly not a fully-grown man. " _Ugh._ Okay, fine… I found her looking around Howe's one night when I was out scavenging, and the two of us traveled together for a little bit. I've only known her for a little while now."

"And yet you came all the way out here, searchin' for her…?" he trailed off with a grin, not really asking me but more so insinuating what he presumed to be true.

Not dignifying that with a response, I heard Luke release a low whistle into the air as he placed his hands over his knees.

"Sounds like you two must've really hit it off, then," he deducted, chuckling slightly when I turned my head away. "Look, I know it ain't my business to really pry or anythin', but…"

"But what?" I asked coldly, expecting him to ask me a billion questions about the child that I really didn't have the time or the patience to answer right now.

Luke, instead, simply placed his hand on my shoulder and smiled at me, and for once, I didn't shrug off the contact. "I just want you to know… Clem's damn lucky to have a friend like you lookin' out for her."

About half of the billion snarky responses I'd been cooking up in my head had deteriorated in two seconds flat, as I pondered over the guy's words. Aside from worrying about the kid, I hadn't really given too much thought about what Clem actually meant to me, or I to her. Sure, we'd been getting along decently enough by the end, and it was true that about ninety percent of the reason I came back was to get her away from Bill (although, if I was being honest, it'd probably have been something closer to ninety-nine), I hadn't really considered the possibility that we'd think of each other as… friends. I'd been thinking of Clementine more as a fellow survivor, one that I could've at the very least passed on some tricks I'd learned so that she might actually have a better chance of making it in the long run.

Friendship really hadn't crossed my mind. Huh… friends. With an eleven-year old. A girl who was literally less than half my age. In the apocalypse.

The idea seemed so absurd that I cracked a bit of a grin and chuckled softly, and yet all the same, I found myself gripping onto the glove that didn't quite fit my hand. The one she'd shared with me back in the diner. I couldn't help but realize that I hadn't taken it off since she'd given herself up.

"Still doesn't hold a candle to Team Ghostbusters though, am I right?" he jokingly implored, giving me his signature grin as I closed my eyes. Of course he'd kill the moment with one of his Dad jokes. "We never really got around to assigning characters for ourselves though, did we? Hmm… maybe I'll be Venkman, and you can be – "

" _Pfft,_ please. If anyone's gonna be Venkman, it's _me."_

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, clearly amused that I was playing along. "Alright then, Boss Lady – which dashing figure am I?"

Looking him up and down, my grin grew larger as I folded my arms across my chest. "Stay Puft. Definitely more your speed."

"That is the single most offensive thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Whatever you say, Marshmallow Man. I could go with Slimer if you prefer."

"He ain't even a Ghostbuster!" Luke whispered with a laugh, confusing me though as the grin quickly died and was replaced by a graver face. "Shit… what the hell does he want now?"

The man – more like the _bastard_ – in question unlocked the door and immediately started scanning the room for any sign of me. Right then, I wanted to just turn back into my seven-year-old self and pull a fast one on him by hiding under the stands in the hopes that I wouldn't be spotted, but there really wasn't anywhere for a grown woman to hide. I swear that Troy's eyes lit up the second he looked over here, paying absolutely no attention to Luke as he beckoned for me to leave.

"C'mon, get. Pack your shit up already, let's go," he commanded, sending a shiver throughout my body as it dawned on me what was actually happening here. Luke was puzzled, as expected, and I didn't have the heart to look him in the eyes as I slowly went to stand.

"What's goin' on?" he asked anyways, almost reaching for my jacket sleeve but missing as I went to collect my limited stash – a couple old packages of crackers and cheese, an old book with most of the pages weathered and beaten, as well as my trusty knife.

Gathering all the items up, I sighed through my nose as Troy made sure the rest of the group wasn't making any fuss. This was going to be a fun explanation…

"Jane here's movin' up in the world, it seems," he tried to play off, even though I knew this was not only a ploy to get under their skin, but also to move me closer to him. Fucking pig… "See, she's actually got a brain in that head of hers, unlike the rest of y'all, and didn't fuck things up enough to get herself stuck in here for the rest of her life. She don't need any o' you assholes draggin' her down."

"…that ain't true…"

Giving me a pointed look that said, _I **dare** you to try and tell him what's going on,_ Troy motioned his head back towards the door as I audibly whispered "I'm sorry" to Luke; hanging my head and following behind.

"And if I hear one more fuckin' peep out of any one of y'all, I'll personally go tell Bill to line your asses up for the choppin' block. Ya hear me?" he proclaimed to the mostly-slumbering camp, clearing out his throat and turning on his heel to the exit.

I didn't catch the farm boy's reaction to any of this, but there was no mistaking the annoyed look of sheer disdain Kenny directed at me before hearing the gymnasium door click shut behind me. He looked like I'd just shit in his cereal.

Honestly, it sort of felt like I had. So much for us getting along earlier.

* * *

 

Most of the rooms where the guards slept, I'd noticed as we walked down the hallway, used to be the dorm rooms of old college students from years past. Many of them were well-furnished, with red and white polyester carpets to match the school's colours, old bed frames that occasionally still had the mattresses on top, dressers, empty closets and picture frames of unknown family and friends.

Bonnie offered me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as I was marched past, and she promised that when the time was right, she'd show me around the joint, but I wasn't sure I'd ever be in the mood for a tour of this place. Frankly, I didn't care about exchanging pleasantries or getting to know the intricacies of NCS – most of the residents would likely be dead in a couple of days anyway, if this cult had their way.

But getting out of here without any casualties was going to present a major problem. If they all were so dead-set on escaping through the tunnels, then fine – that was their prerogative. But even if that was the case, we were going to need one hell of a distraction in order to get out, not to mention the fact that those tunnels could literally take us to any number of locations throughout Raleigh. Without a map of the place, our fate was kind of up in the air on that front.

There were only two folks here – Mike and Bonnie – who I'd probably even consider cutting in on our plan, but I wasn't even entirely convinced they'd be willing to go along with something like that. Mike clearly didn't like Carver, and Bonnie seemed to be a little floaty, but with accommodations like this? I wouldn't really have been that surprised if they didn't want to leave.

After sleeping on the ground for a little under a year, laying in a bed felt like sitting on top of a castle of marshmallows.

"This is your place, up on the left," Troy instructed as he unlocked the door with a set of keys I never knew he'd had. "Just drop off your shit and follow me. You can settle in later tonight."

"Where are we going?" I asked him as I stepped into my new humble abode, already starting to feel the exhaustion taking its effect as my eyelids struggled to stay open.

Troy leaned up against the hallway wall and shrugged, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it right underneath the "No Smoking" sign. "Bill wants a word," he vaguely mumbled, exhaling a plume of smoke as he flicked the lighter closed. "So I'd suggest gettin' a move-on. He don't like to wait, 'specially for fresh meat like you."

Telling him I'd be a minute, I flipped Troy the bird when the door was closed and ran a hand through my hair. Great. Just when I thought the night couldn't get any better, Public Enemy Number One decides it's a great idea to have a chat at two in the fucking morning. What could possibly have been so important that One-Eyed Willy urgently needed to speak to me, of all people? I haven't even seen the guy since that first day I'd arrived on campus.

_My room_ though, huh? Looked like a pretty decent step-up from the rec centre so far, with a bed in the corner that was already made, a little nightstand to the right of it, a lamp which I was surprised to learn actually still worked as I flipped it on, a mirrored closet that still worked despite the rather large crack down the middle, and an old bean bag chair that some kid must've deemed not important enough to take while they were all running for their lives. In the closet was a thin blue hoodie that seemed to be about my size, a bunch of empty coat hangers, an old calendar filled with circled dates the college kid must've planned out, and on top of the shelf sat a cardboard box filled with random objects. Deciding that I'd be better off exploring more later, I shut the closet again and took in my reflection.

Staring back at me was a tired, weary survivor, whose hair was soon to be in need of another trim as I swiped a strand away from my face. I'd always been a pretty skinny kid growing up, but the years hadn't really been kind with the food rations, and my cheeks were starting to turn a bit gaunt. My mouth was almost eternally etched into a frown these days, as up until very recently, there hadn't been a whole lot of reasons to be cheerful about anything.

I zipped up my leather jacket a little bit and cringed at the smell of it. I needed to find a lake or something, just to get rid of the grime and dirt that'd been collecting on it for so long. This thing had seen me through quite a long journey, and I found it kind of funny that, had the dead not come back to life, I'd probably still have had this just collecting dust in my apartment back in D.C.

Life was very, _very_ different for me back then. I'd been keeping a steady-enough job as a bank receptionist at the time – nothing special, and I was kind of getting tired of dealing with clients all day, but it paid the bills, and it allowed me to stay in the flat for a couple of years. There usually wasn't a whole lot of spending money left over for quote-unquote _"fun"_ activities, not with the skyrocketing home prices in Washington, but anything that kept me away from the 'rents was fine by me.

Visits from Jaime became more frequent as we'd gotten older, since she'd admitted to me that she missed her big sister and I, no longer being quite as childish as I had in the past, didn't completely detest her company as I once had. I don't think I'd ever forget that day we'd spent together; the very last normal one before both of our lives were changed for the worse.

_C'mon, Jane! It'll be fun, I promise! Besides, you need to get out and see the sunlight a bit! Looking like a vampire over there…_

_For one thing, my apartment's literally **underwater** from the toilet exploding on me. Two, it'll be fucking dark outside, so that sunlight thing makes zero sense. And three – _

_Three is you being a total stick in the mud, sis. C'mon, I took a train ride to get over here! The least we can do is go out on the town!_

_You're not even old enough to get in there! Hell,_ I'm _barely old enough! And in case you forgot, your fake isn't gonna fool anyone. I mean, Manitoba, Jaime? Really? You gonna come up to the front entrance riding on a moose or something?_

_You just don't have any imagination. I'll work my magic on the bouncer, you'll see! Now come on, we're burning daylight!_

Hearing a knock against the door and Troy's muffled, annoyed voice coming through, I pulled myself out of reverie and stepped back out into the hallway. Reminiscing on some of the more lighthearted moments shared with Jaime was always easier than what followed a year or so afterwards, and I cherished the times where I'd think about our wild pirate escapades as children (usually at Jaime's insistence, naturally), but those were often overshadowed by the darkest periods. Jaime realizing that we were never coming home, and that Mom and Dad were surely deceased. Those times I'd come back with firewood only to see my sister sitting by the fire, hugging her knees with silent tears streaming down her face.

Finally giving her what she wanted, and jumping off that goddamn roof as the walkers broke through and –

… _sigh._ Bad times always seemed to outweigh the good. Regret and despair had always found a way to bite me right in the ass at the worst possible times.

"…fuckin' women takin' forever to get ready," Troy huffed as I walked alongside the man, thankful that most of our conversations had been curtailed recently when Troy had started to recognize that I wasn't really the chatty type. If I had to listen to more of this sexist asshole's random mutterings about how much of a bitch I was or why none of the other women in this entire complex were good enough for him, I wasn't so sure that I wouldn't strangle him in his sleep.

Although, now that I was just going to be down the way from his room, that might've now been an option. Or maybe the other way around, I dunno.

I kept those thoughts to a minimum, though. Despite the times we now lived in, I hardly ever killed living people unless it was absolutely a last resort. Sure, many of them definitely had it coming, since morals now appeared to be a relic of a bygone age, but I'd made a point of trying to stay away from that route. "Jane the Throat-Slitter" wasn't a very flattering title, and more importantly, if I'd allowed myself to sink down to that level, I wasn't so sure that I'd ever recover. I'd met killers before, those who did it seemingly without an ounce of remorse, and they were literally no better than raiders.

That's not the kind of life I wanted to lead. Survival didn't have to just be screwing over every single person you came into contact with.

Eventually, we'd arrived at what looked to be the dean's office, which from the outside didn't really look all that impressive. Tacky, floral wallpaper had started peeling at the seams where once proud portraits of previous school deans once stood, with water damage starting to turn some of the exposed plastered slabs behind into a sickly yellow colour. Dinghy, plastic chairs sat over by a couple of fake trees to serve as a sort of makeshift waiting area, but what was more interesting was what was inside the glass case: an old Winchester sniper rifle, one of the old models that you'd see in those classic Clint Eastwood westerns. You couldn't really tell if it still worked or not, but it was odd to note how nobody had ever thought to take a gun like that for the road.

"In ya go," Troy told me, but not before grabbing onto my arm and whispering into my ear. "Come by later tonight, if you're still up. Got somethin' I feel like tryin' later on, and I need an extra pair of hands, if ya catch my meanin'."

"What? Masturbating into a potted plant isn't cutting it for you anymore?" I snapped, pulling away from his grip as he shoved me into the door. Before he could let loose anymore shit out of his mouth, Carver's voice overpowered him through the doorway, and he begrudgingly backed off.

Christ. Never thought Carver would end up being somebody who could get me away from this slimy, little asshole.

Out of the frying pan…

* * *

 

The outside of this place did not in any way reflect the grandeur of that inside the office. Holy fucking shitters… This place looked like a CEO's wet dream.

The place was designed with a sort of old, rustic feel mixed with a touch of modern flare. Tall, wooden cabinets adorned the back walls, filled to the brim with various texts, accolades, doctorates and photos. A couple of expensive-looking leather chairs sat in front of a huge, maple-wood desk, with the latter being emblazoned by a marble cut-out of the NCS logo. On top of the desk sat some kind of bronze-encrusted bird, a handful of files labelled "FORTIFICATIONS", "RESOURCE MANAGEMENT" and "JOB DISTRIBUTION", along with what had obviously been a label for the previous dean's name; rearranged to simply say "William" in all of its patronizing glory. Behind the imposing desk sat a typewriter, an old-fashioned grandfather clock and accompanying radio that no longer worked, a stress ball that'd definitely seen better days, and what appeared to be hundreds of small binders likely full of old student files.

What was more troubling, and more immediately apparent, was the little bassinet sitting in the corner, with baby AJ (or Bryan or whatever the hell the kid's name was now) laying comfortably on his back, playing with a spinning mobile above his head and occasionally making those weird noises infants make.

I wished right then that I could be as blissfully unaware as him. All he had to worry about was shitting his pants and crying for food all day.

Carver, not having turned around to face me yet as I entered the room, popped the cork off of something and grabbed a couple of pricey-looking glasses from one of the cabinets. "Have a seat, Jane. Take a load off," he encouraged, turning back around and placing a fifth of Jim Beam whiskey on the desk in front of us. "Troy tells me you've been doing good work out there," he explained as he began to pour a half glass for the both of us. "Helping out with the rounds, fixing us up some protection for the watchtower… that's the sort of thing we need around here, to help build a better community. A _safer_ community."

Safe? _Hmph,_ yeah, okay. Talk to me about being "safe" when you willingly stop sending Clementine to the walkers on a silver platter, you hypocritical asshat.

Noticing that I hadn't picked up the glass when he slid it carefully over to me, Carver tilted his head slightly and said in a deadpan voice, "Y'know, it's pretty impolite to refuse a refreshment when one's been so graciously offered to you." The guy lifted his own glass in response, awaiting my decision and watching my every move with a calculating hundred-yard stare.

After noticing that he'd poured me the drink from the same bottle, and that Bill wasn't really taking "no" for an answer, I reluctantly lifted my own glass up and watched as he clinked them together in cheers.

"To fresh beginnings," he declared, sounding eerily similar to some of those cultist messages that I for the life of me couldn't get out of my head. Taking a sip and humming in satisfaction, he closed his one remaining eye as I did the same. "Haven't had a brew like that in quite a long time. But we've gotta celebrate your achievement here though, don't we? Special occasions and all that," he rambled on, taking a larger gulp before putting the rest of the whiskey back onto the table. "So…" he trailed off before folding his hands together, "I'm betting you're wondering why I called you up here so late."

The thought did cross my mind, Bill, yeah. "Is this a test?" I went with instead, not wanting to make small talk with this monster when I should've been focusing on figuring out the best way to bust Clem out of this campus.

With a snide smirk that didn't quite reach his eye, Carver leaned back into his office chair and drummed his fingers across his stomach. "Let's call it a performance review," he provided, "and might I say… it's refreshing to talk to somebody so goal-oriented. You see and cut right through the bullshit, straight to the point. I like that."

It was difficult to tell if he was lying or not, since I got the feeling that he'd used this kind of interrogation tactic on many folks before me – buttering them up, building the suspense and never laying all of his cards on the table. The guy was probably a pretty stellar poker player, probably even more so now that nobody would want to look at his half-ripped apart face.

"Contrary to what you might think, I like to consider myself a bit of a people person. Not in the social approach, per say, but more of an observant mindset. I can usually get a good read on people right away," he told me as I took another sip of the alcohol. "You, on the other hand? I'll admit, you're a bit of a puzzle. Can't quite figure out what makes you tick. But in time, I'm sure we'll enlighten each other on that. All in due time."

He stood up and waltzed on over to Rebecca's child, grinning down and lightly tickling the kid on the belly. While he was doing so, I couldn't help but notice the giant, framed portrait of the school's founder hanging high and proudly up close to the ceiling, and wondered if Carver's ego was big enough that one day he'd end up hanging one of himself right up there beside it. I wasn't sure if his head could really get any bigger than it already was, but it wouldn't really surprise me if that ended up happening.

"I truly appreciate the work you've been doing here, Jane. Genuinely, I do."

"…but?"

Grinning at that, Bill lowered his head and sighed, rubbing his index finger and thumb across his eye as he hesitated for a brief second. "I'm afraid that I haven't been quite as up front about this issue as I should've been. My fault on that end, really, but I think the reason I've been holding it off for so long is that I wanted you to get adjusted to our lifestyle. Our way of doing things," he elaborated, keeping me on the edge of my seat as he returned to the desk. "But, you see," he stated, watching for my reaction as he reached underneath the desk and pulled up the torn rucksack I'd completely forgotten about; left abandoned under that car in the parking garage. One by one, Carver reached in and pulled out the various items within the bag, starting with the busted flashlight and finishing with the radio I'd foolishly left inside. Stupid, stupid, so goddamn _stupid!_ "I'm really going to need you to explain this one for me. Because I could've sworn that we agreed we'd be truthful with one another."

I felt my pulse racing as I tried to keep a level head, knowing that any subtle shift in body language or tone of voice was likely going to give me away. "Looks like somebody did a number on that thing," I nonchalantly remarked, likely only agitating the man as I did so. "Nice find, though. Got a lot of goodies in there."

"Mm-hmm."

"Don't really know what it has to do with me, though."

"Doesn't ring a bell, huh?" he continued, picking up the walkie-talkie and absentmindedly turning it around in his hand. "Pretty standard issue, I'd say. Two-way, long battery life, monochrome black. Exact same model we ended up using back in our old home."

"Sounds like a pretty useful thing to lose," I returned, not backing down on this as the man sat back in his chair with a _thud._

Carver could tell I was bullshitting him, and yet for some reason, he was continuing to let this tennis match between us go on for another few serves. I didn't know what the guy was playing at here. Bill could've buried me alive, lost his cool and thrown me out on my ass for double-crossing him, but it was almost as if he wanted me to confess to something rather than just throw out an accusation.

Where the hell was he going with this…?

"I've been around a lot of folks in my lifetime. Seen a lot of things go wrong, witnessed this community we've built collapse at the seams more than once. In fact, speaking of which, let me tell you a story. Hopefully I don't bore you with the details," he expressed, still not letting go of the device as he waved his hands for dramatic effect. "My colleagues and I were holed up in a hardware store. Big, plenty of resources, electricity, but a real pain in the ass to maintain at times. We were content for the most part – biters were held off pretty easily, and as long as everyone did their share of the work, things would always be smooth sailing. But unfortunately, not everyone saw it this way."

His face clouded over at that, staring out the window and watching one of the guards walking around outside. "Bunch of ungrateful pricks, they were, not knowing how good they had it compared all the horrible crap going on out in the world. A handful of us stumbled upon a plot for them to escape and put the store at risk with their incompetence."

"Sounds… pretty shitty," I commented, trying to appear sympathetic even though it took nearly all of my willpower not to hop over this desk and simply demand an explanation as to Clem's whereabouts.

Nodding his head, Carver smirked and beckoned his hand towards me. "Right? I honestly couldn't believe the nerve of them at first, but… well, you've met them already. You've lived among them. You ought to know their type by now," he alluded. "Here's the crazy part, though: in a way, they actually _succeeded,_ if you can imagine. Used a wandering herd to their advantage and tried to sneak out in the middle of the night. Thankfully we caught them in the act, but… well," he abruptly stopped, chuckling humourlessly as he lightly brushed the empty, scabbing hole where his one eye used to be. "Let's just say that after that night? Trust hasn't really come that easily to me. And if somebody breaks it, that faith is shattered."

Carver, picking up his glass and taking another swig, made his way around the desk and sat atop it, staring down at me as he tried to keep eye contact.

"…y'know, Jane, this rift between us is just tearing me apart inside. I want us to be honest with each other here, but I can't quite do that with all of this… grey area, we've got in the middle. I want to clear the air, make amends. And you know what? I think there's something that can help in that regard."

"W-what's that?" I stammered, my steely nerve starting to crack as I saw him turn the radio on.

The plastic device screeched with static as he adjusted the dial, placing his hand on my shoulder and giving a firm squeeze. "There's a friend whom I'd really like you to meet," he told me, placing the radio up to his mouth and saying, "Troy, bring the kid in."

Painfully slowly, I spun around in my seat as the door unlatched and in she walked – Clementine, looking like she'd just gotten run over by a truck. Her gaze was glued to the floor, not having noticed me yet, but at that moment I was glad Carver wasn't in front of me to witness my flying saucer eyeballs somehow shoot open even wider. Without her hat on, the girl looked even tinier than before; her usually curly locks frazzled in a fringed mess and walker blood still staining nearly every inch of her clothing. She didn't even bother trying to be self-conscious about the branding anymore, not that her new, ratty long-sleeve shirt was really doing her any favours, and if it wasn't for the way she was sending out shallow, laboured breaths, I would've thought she was literally dead on her feet. Her skin seemed greyer, her eyes hollow and unfocused, and, noticing how she clutched at her right arm, her hand was shaking. Whether it was from fear, lack of sleep, malnutrition or all of the above, I couldn't tell, but right then I had to stop my own arm from reaching out trying to stabilize the poor kid.

My stone-cold heart was breaking for Clem here, and I didn't bother turning back around as Carver grinned and stalked his way towards her.

"Nice to see you again there, kiddo!" the absolute worst person on the planet had the nerve to say to her, tilting the girl's chin up as she gave a little jump. "And how's the zookeeping going? They all behaving properly down there?"

_Zookeeping?!_ That's all this was to him?!

"…y-yeah…" she mumbled compliantly, still staring at the floor in the vain hope that it would open up and swallow her whole.

"No bites? Scratches? Anything you want to tell me about?"

"…nothing."

"Now that's what I like to hear," he complimented with a light pat on the back. "But, oh, wait a minute! Damn, where are my manners today? Clem, I'd like to introduce you to somebody," Bill announced, extending a hand towards me as the girl finally turned to look up. "Clementine, meet Jane. She's been helping us out around NCS for a little over a week now."

I've been through some pretty traumatic experiences out in the world. Seen my fair share of walker mauls, watched people get murdered over a can of beans, and, most recently, seen dead people having been hanged in almost a sport-like fashion.

But I swear to you, as Clementine finally registered what was going on, and with that madman observing the entire exchange, I'd never been so terrified in my entire life. We both just kind of stared at each other, neither making a move as we both froze in place. Clementine looked like she wanted to cry, gulping and silently asking me why the fuck I'd ever decided to come back when I could've left well enough alone, and me feeling like I just got winded from a swift kick to the stomach. Her amber pupils were drilling a hole into my head as my brain struggled to register what the English language was anymore.

"I think a firm handshake here should seal the occasion, you two. First impressions are important, after all," Carver cut in, guiding Clementine closer to the center of the room. "Unless, of course… you'd both like to tell me something here."

There was only one thought that entered my mind as I almost robotically extended my hand, shaking Clem's gloved one with my own and placing my other hand on top in a silent promise of, _don't worry – it's going to be alright._

But that was a lie. A monstrous one. Because he knew. William fucking Carver knew that it was me who'd been travelling with Clementine after the Howe's raid, and he was going to use that against the both of us. We were royally screwed, and there wasn't anything either of us could do about it.

"Nice to meet you, Clementine…" I trailed off in the vain hope that I could fake some kind of introduction, although my face was likely betraying my thoughts so openly I might as well have just come out and said it anyways. No wonder Bill wanted to do this so late into the evening – he knew one of us was bound to slip up.

"You… you too…" she reciprocated, holding onto each other's hand for longer than normal even though I was certain neither of us minded. If anything, the contact was probably a comfort the both of us desperately needed.

Appearing visibly surprised, Carver shook it off and slithered his way back behind the desk. Taking that as our cue, Clem and I glanced at each other once more and sat back down in the leather seats up front. "Well, now that that's all settled, let's get down to brass tacks here, shall we?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Jane, that if you're going to start living among the main hub of the group, then you've gotta prove to me that you've truly earned it. Regular housing means regular duties, after all," he clarified with a grunt, pulling Clementine's hat out from under the desk and handing it back to her. "I'm sure you noticed on the way into Raleigh just how few of the dead heads were out roaming the streets. Strange, don't you think? Usually a city as big as this would have hundreds of them out n' about," he said, about to open his mouth to speak again when he was interrupted by AJ's cries from his crib. Sighing with a chuckle, Carver turned to Clementine and asked her to follow along. "You've always been good with my boy, Clem. Gimme a hand with this for a second."

Getting up without question, Clementine jogged over to the bassinet and scooped the baby out, holding her close to the chest as she gently rocked him back and forth. AJ stopped his sniffles after a little bit, fully enamoured with his handler as she gently rocked him back and forth.

"You're a natural," Carver grinned down at them, confusing the hell out of me as he watched the display like a proud parent. I didn't understand the dynamic here in the slightest – I thought that the guy wouldn't let Clementine come within ten feet of Rebecca and Alvin's kid considering their history, and yet here he was, complimenting her childcare abilities as if there wasn't anything wrong. Noticing that I hadn't yet moved, Bill glanced over in my direction with a curious expression. "You like babies there, Jane? You don't exactly strike me as the "motherly" type, no offense, but looks can be deceiving. Wanna hold him?"

"I'm…" I stuttered, still thinking that having a newborn child in the middle of all of this was a stupid idea, "…no. I'm fine."

Shrugging, Carver lightly ruffled the infant's head and came back to the desk. "Suit yourself," he said, folding his hands back up and returning to our meeting. "But anyways, if all of that seems like too much of a coincidence? Well, I believe that's because it is. Those streets are too clear for something not to be going on," he continued. "And I'm not in the position to be able to believe in coincidences. With what Troy told me about your findings down in those tunnels, and the reports that I've been getting of suspicious onlookers in the middle of the night? No… something needs to be done."

"So what did you want me to do, exactly?"

Carver pulled out a blueprint from one of the desk drawers and laid it out flat as he began to explain. "This is a sketch of what the subway tunnel system was supposed to be. And those weird people I mentioned? They seemed to be congregating right around here," he pointed to the larger section of the map. There weren't a whole lot of concrete details on the thing, it being a blueprint and all, but for our escape plan to actually work, that thing would definitely come in handy. More importantly though, as I thought back to what Alvin was saying earlier, I squinted my eyes and grimaced at the familiarity of everything. From what the big guy had described, this blueprint might've looked a lot like that cultist map - with all the different tunnel sections, connecting pathways and open-concept train platforms, it was a pretty distinct possibility. "Right above where the student centre and convention plaza are, up in the northern campus. There's a set of stairs they'd built underground for the subway that leads right to it. All I need you to do is check it out for me – no muss, no fuss."

Clementine, darting her head at the mere suggestion of this risky plan, piped in her two cents. "But… isn't it dangerous down there? She shouldn't be going alone."

"Then what do you suggest I do, sweetheart?"

"Maybe… I could go with her? Watch her back and stuff," she proposed, and a warm feeling started settling in my chest at the way her eyes lit up the more she thought about it. As much as I didn't want to put the kid in harm's way any more than she'd already been subjected to, I'd love it if the kid were to accompany me on this.

Carver, however, as I was about to second that motion, had other ideas.

"Unfortunately, Clem, I don't feel that you've really worked your way up to regular responsibilities just yet. You still need to atone," he mentioned with a shake of his head. "Maybe someday I'll consider you an asset again, but until that time? You, my little friend, still need seasoning."

"But – "

Scowling and turning his head so that only his missing eye was shown, Clementine backed off and gave an almost desperate, pleading look towards me out of the corner of her eye. _Don't do this, Jane. Please._

"You _have_ made a fair point, though, Clementine. Two heads would work better than one on this little venture," he stated while folding the blueprint back up into a square and placing it back into the cupboard. "That's why she won't be going alone tomorrow. I'll be going with her."

Wait. Wait a minute. _What?!_

"If there's someone or something threatening NCS, then I need to be there to put a stop to it. We need to kill this before it spreads and infects any further. What kind of leader would I be if I didn't investigate this for myself?" Carver reasoned, not leaving any room for debate as I was forced to solemnly nod. "Good. Glad to see that we're on the same page with this one. You had me worried there for a minute that I was gonna have to be a little more… _persuasive,"_ he made an underlying threat, giving me a dark grin as he motioned for the door. Taking that as my cue to leave, I gave one last longing glance over at Clem before standing up and heading towards the door. "We need to be connected here, Jane. All the cogs need to turn together, like a well-oiled machine, or this place is going to fall apart. And I don't intend on seeing that happen again. Get some rest – we'll head out in the morning."

Thoughts returning to Clementine as I heard Carver's muffled speech behind the closed door, I slowly staggered my way back towards the dorms and into my newly-anointed room.

My exhausted eyes fell upon Troy, who'd apparently been waiting for me outside the room all this time. With a devilish grin, he said nothing as he unlocked my door, walked inside and sat on the bed.

Fuck my life, man. This couldn't continue. I couldn't let it. I _wouldn't._

Come hell or high water, within the next few days, I was getting out of this school. Me and Clementine.

Whatever it took, I'd find a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much again for reading through that! I know it was a little dialogue-heavy, but I feel it was necessary to set up the next few chapters. Things are about to get interesting...
> 
> Onto the death cult! Hope you all enjoyed!


	9. Cult

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue the X-Files theme song!

Late nights were the worst when you knew in the back of your head that you’d have to eventually get up around the crack of dawn. During the first few weeks of my desk job back in D.C., I’d always groan in protest whenever my alarm would angrily chirp out a five o’clock awakening, especially when I’d only gotten like two or three hours of shuteye at best. What would I be doing up that late? Tossing and turning, usually, and if that wasn’t enough to stave off my usual sleep apnea, I’d often give up the prospect altogether and peruse the internet for anything even remotely interesting. My options were limited, naturally, since dial-up was such a _wonderful_ convenience, but worrying about whether or not I’d made the right choice about moving away from home within that first little while kind of took away from the slow computer speeds.

Besides, hearing my angry neighbour from upstairs stomp above my head after blasting the dial-up tone always managed to give me some small amount of humorous satisfaction. I couldn’t for the life of me remember what the lady’s name was, nor did I really care.

But my oh my, how the priorities had changed since then. I wasn’t entirely sure if it’d been two or three years since the dead rose up, but all the petty worries of the past seemed so pointless now. Finding a well-paying job, buying a house, raising a family… all the values my parents had tried to drive into my head, and all the wasted hours fighting about how I wasn’t strictly following the path they had wanted me to pursue. It was trivial, all of that shit, and sometimes I’d just look back on some of those times and scoff. I wasn’t so sure the past version of myself would even recognize me anymore, and I certainly didn’t want or care to think about what Mom and Dad would’ve thought.

…but I’d started chastising myself lately, for continuing to shine my folks in such a bad light. They weren’t completely awful people by any stretch of the imagination, the more that I thought about it, and I’d definitely known some guys who’d had it infinitely worse than I did, with parents who were so absentminded they may as well not have been there at all. My folks wanted what they thought was the best for me, I could understand that now. We just never really saw eye-to-eye on… pretty much anything. I’d say I wanted to go to a creative arts school, they’d say that was a dumb idea and that I should be an accountant. They’d tell me to get out of the house more and hang with the popular kids, I’d bite back that they were all a bunch of phonies who were too afraid of what the other kids might’ve thought to actually have an individual personality.

…ok, that last one was a bit of a lie, but I _definitely_ thought of it in my head at the time!

Jaime was the only reason I even bothered putting up with the drama for as long as I did, but even that had its limits. I could still recall when I was a teenager, and how the shouting matches I engaged in with my parents would leave the girl a bumbling, distraught mess.

But thoughts of my dead sister only made the gag reflex that much stronger this morning, as I desperately tried to keep it together and under control.

I was in a foul mood today, that much was clear. Usually I was a pretty early riser and a morning like this wouldn’t normally dampen my spirits, but there hadn’t been a lot of time for rest and recuperation last night, seeing’s how a certain sleazy douchebag had refused to leave my room into the small hours of the evening. The things he’d forced me to do were literally the stuff of nightmares, and it physically hurt to dwell on them for too long.

I’d thrown up twice that morning just thinking about it, compounded with an unrelenting nervousness about Clem, the tunnel plan, Carver and how I figured it was only a matter of time before Troy decided he was gonna call the whole thing off and report my ass about finding me the other night. I wasn’t sure which was worse – the fact that I could potentially have to endure another round of Troy grinding up on me, or getting tossed out onto my ass before Bill finally decided to pull the trigger.

Thinking about all the sex acts I was forced to perform last night though, as I nearly dry-heaved again into a nearby garbage pail, put those thoughts to bed almost instantly. I’d gladly take a bullet in the head over this. That asshole’s scent was still on my shirt when I woke up, too, so I’d violently chucked the stupid thing across my room and now sported that hoodie I’d seen in the closet yesterday instead.

The cumulative shit of the past week and a half had been slowing building up inside and overwhelming my senses. Bad news after bad news after _even more_ fucking bad news. I knew that awful crap happened these days with dysfunctional places like these, and that I should’ve been expecting things to go wrong, but in that fleeting moment, I felt like a naïve child who’d just been slapped in the face after realizing how the world truly operated. I was completely unprepared, and had underestimated NCS’s ability to chew me up and spit me back out.

Bristling as one of the guards walked by, I rubbed my face and lazily allowed my left arm to droop onto the table.

Breakfast was held in a small common room. Not very sprawling of an area by school standards, but with the limited number of people who weren’t on some kind of overnight shift, it was pretty satisfactory. Somebody had cracked a window earlier to the relief of everyone, seeing’s how the food preparation was making the room too stuffy for people to handle.

Oatmeal had been served in white Styrofoam cups with a plastic spoon to match, but with the stuff being so runny and moist, you probably could’ve just downed the mixture like a smoothie if you wanted to. It all looked like a brown, chunky goop that was unceremoniously slopped in front of me, and after the events of last night, I could barely convince myself to touch it. A short-sighted notion, really. Having a hot meal for the first time in weeks should’ve been worth sacrificing my taste buds over for one day.

However, with the trip I was about to take this morning, tasty oatmeal was the furthest thing from my mind.

This whole thing was going to be a suicide mission, there was no two ways about it. Delving into what was essentially a crypt beneath the school – for the second time, no less – with a murdering narcissist accompanying me, towards a bunch of rock-licking, _‘riddle-me-this’_ strangers who would more than likely strike us down without giving it a second thought, was definitely not accompanying the list of “Things Jane Wants to Happen Before She Dies”.

Play bass guitar in a rock band at a sold-out show, maybe. Or going on a Euro trip at least once, sure. But definitely not this.

I didn’t care if Carver said we were only going to go for a quick search into the tunnels, and that the logical part of my brain was screaming at me about how we might not find anybody down there at all today. Jane plus scary tunnels equaled bad news.

And, y’know, multiplied by flesh-hungry walkers, divided by very few escape routes, squared by Clementine still not being with me, subtracted by…

_Gah._ I knew I was fucked whenever I started turning things into math problems.

So, yeah. To say that I was a little bit antsy this morning, as I shakily clutched onto the cup and held on for dear life, would’ve been underselling it. Fear of the unknown made everything seem exceptionally worse than it already was. Walkers I could handle, and Bill, although undeniably tyrannical, I knew enough about at this point to kind of have an idea of what sort of shit he’d pull if push came to shove.

But all that I knew about these tunnel folks was pure conjecture; guesswork, with which I couldn’t even check my answers to see if they were correct. I’d been mulling over the things I’d seen and heard about – the messages, the Pit, the young boy I’d seen and his warning, Alvin’s map description… but I still couldn’t connect the dots, and I had about a thousand burning questions. Why did they seem to be so obsessed with the Pit, for one? What was so significant about it that they treated the walker hellhole like it was an offering to the gods? Had they been brainwashed into doing all of this, or had they always been this way, living out in the sticks and scaring the daylights out of anybody who’d come across their path?

In some strange way, it felt like I’d just discovered some long, lost civilization and was about to go onto my first archaeological dig. And as much as I’d have preferred just skipping town with the kid in tow and forgetting that we’d ever even visited this miserable place, I was a little bit fascinated by it all. It was a part of me I hated, and yet it was still a part of me. I was drawn to quite possibly the biggest threat we faced in all of NCS, and that was saying something considering the occupants I shared the place with.

Taking another spoonful, I felt the heavy weight of two pairs of eyes upon me as Mike and Bonnie sat uncomfortably in their chairs.

Walking into the common room was like walking into the cafeteria on your first day of a completely new high school. No friends, a few familiar faces, and a bunch of confused mutterings as to who the new girl was and what she was doing here. I hadn’t said a single word to anyone, not even a _‘hello’_ to Bonnie or Mike, and tried to be as nondescript as I could possibly make myself in order to stave off any questions. Troy and Tavia were nowhere to be found, thank god, but that didn’t mean that the majority of those remaining were going to be very forthcoming with letting somebody else into their merry band.

Not that I was complaining. In was, in fact, more than happy to keep to my traumatized existence in the corner until I was summoned upon by the cyclops who ran this shitty school.

Mike had been spinning the gooey concoction around with his spoon and had barely even touched the meal, to which Bonnie had lightly scolded him about it getting cold, but he kind of just shrugged it off and said he wasn’t that hungry. The two of them both seemed to be a little apprehensive since they’d sat down beside me, as if there was something that they were just dying to get off their chests but either didn’t have the courage to say it, or were afraid of unwanted ears listening in. Bonnie had kept trying to distract herself with a partly-finished crossword puzzle she’d picked up in one of the decrepit washrooms, but the girl was chewing her lip the entire time to the point of it bleeding a little bit.

Rolling my eyes, I started picking apart the last of my breakfast before placing the cup to the side. “What?” I asked point-blank, grumbling lightly when they both just gave me questioning gazes. “The both of you have been staring at me for forty-five minutes like I just grew a second nose. What’s going on?”

Turning towards Bonnie, Mike shrugged his shoulders as the woman sighed and tiredly rubbed her eyes. “Really? Why do _I_ gotta be the one to bring this up, Mike?”

“Figured it’d be better coming from you.”

“That don’t even make sense!”

“Hey, _hey!”_ I snapped my fingers, drawing the attention of a few onlookers as people started to clear out for their morning duties. Vince was just finishing up with the leftover oatmeal containers and wasn’t really paying any attention to what we were saying, so Bonnie gulped and got back on track.

“So… we heard about Clementine,” she began whilst rubbing her arm in discomfort, looking as solemn as Mike did now while the big guy nodded. “Vince had mentioned to us about hearin’ some noises around the utilities building the other night, and kinda slipped out that there was a kid sleepin’ inside.”

I swear to god, it was like everyone and their mother was asking me about Clem by this point. Did somebody stick a picture of the kid on my back and not said anything about it or something? Or was I just not nearly as good about hiding shit as I thought I was?

“I ended up questionin’ Bill about it, went into his office and asked him what was goin’ on…” she shuddered, a deep frown encapsulating her usually kind face. “He didn’t even flinch. Didn’t even _try_ hidin’ the fact that he’d sent her down there. And when he told me why, it just…” she trailed off, turning around to send out a half smile and a wave to Vince as he walked out of the room. “…you ever had one of those days where you hear somethin’, and you really don’t want it to be true – don’t wanna _believe_ that the person you thought you knew could even be capable of doin’ somethin’ so unbelievably… unbelievably…”

“Inhuman?” Mike offered, his distaste for Carver coming through as he started listing off more adjectives. “Vile? Repulsive? Fucking batshit crazy?”

“Well… wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but – “

“But nothing! That’s how it is, Bonnie.”

“I know, Mike. I know. Just… lemme finish,” she insisted, resting her hand on the man’s forearm and lingering for quite longer than I’d have expected. “At first I thought it was just about the eye thing n’ all, but he kept ramblin’ on about the ‘next generation’ and how these kids needed to be stronger than the rest of us so that they could lead us outta this mess. Her and the baby both,” she elaborated, letting the insinuation hang in the air for a while as we all stewed over the situation. “He wasn’t always like this, y’know. So obsessed about things, so irrational. There was a time when I thought that he really cared about everyone, where he didn’t focus on petty revenge and actually put everyone’s needs above his own. But then… all _this_ happened.”

“I’m sure he did,” I bit back, glowering with as much force as I could to get the message across, “then he fed an eleven-year-old child to a pack of lurkers and realized he could sleep at night.”

Bonnie looked a tiny bit afraid of where this conversation was going, and turned towards Mike for a second to find him frowning just as deeply as I was. “M-maybe the guy I knew is still in there somewhere, deep down,” she stammered, “if… if there’s even a _chance,_ no matter how small – “

“Bonnie… you can’t still vindicate the guy. Not after all he’s done, and what he’s planning to do,” he gestured towards me, looking slightly apologetic before continuing. “I mean, no offense, Jane… but this plan of his today? Taking the two of you down there? Alone? Regardless of what’s down there or not, that’s not logical. What the hell is he thinking?”

“He doesn’t believe they’re an actual threat,” I explained, actually feeling a little envious of Bill’s apparent naivety when it came to secret, underground hooligans. “If it hadn’t been for Clem piping in last night when she did, I’d literally be going in there by myself. Kinda wish I actually _was_ now, though, given the choice.”

Mike and I were gauging Bonnie’s reaction carefully, waiting for her to chirp again about how Carver was simply “misunderstood” or how neither of us knew the man like she did, which may have been true but didn’t eliminate the fact that, no matter who the guy might’ve been once upon a time, he definitely was a danger to us all _now._

But she didn’t go with that. Bonnie was internally conflicted, that much we knew for sure, but she wasn’t an idiot. She had to have known where this would inevitably end up, what was about to happen.

“…you sure there ain’t another way?” she directed at me, to which I shook my head. “Goddamit…”

“If we don’t act on something now, it’s gonna be too late. Carver’s going off the deep end, and it’s only gonna be a matter of time before we’re caught in the crossfire,” Mike warned, leaning back in his seat as he turned to Bonnie. “Look… this place might seem like a gold mine with the food and walls and everything, but it’s not the only place out there. It _can’t_ be.”

“And what if there ain’t one? What happens if we burn this bridge and there ain’t nothin’ else out there ‘cept ruins and death? We’re takin’ a mighty big gamble with leavin’ again,” she worriedly retorted. “…I just wanted this to work. I kept tellin’ myself that this would really be the one, that it’d be an actual home where we didn’t have to worry about this shit no more. But now… with all of this,” she vaguely gestured to the campus walls, “I can’t help feelin’ that all those promises people told us, Bill, Tavia and all the rest… ain’t none of ‘em came true. And they never would’ve.”

Neither of us really knew how to respond to that, simply listening to the _thump-thump_ of boots out in the hallway as people began their daily routines. It wouldn’t be long before we would have to do the same.

“…y’all have obviously had a long time to think about this, bein’ cooped up in that gym,” she continued, taking our now-empty breakfast cups and tossing them into a garbage can. “Tell me you guys came up with somethin’. A plan, a way out, anything.”

From the second-floor window that this common room was perched upon, I could already see that the sun was starting to ascend ever-higher into the sky, meaning I’d have to make this quick. If I was wrong about this, not that their confessions really warranted my doubt, then I’d probably end up getting all of those people in the gym executed, saving the last beheading for myself. But we were disorganized, now more than ever, and although we’d collectively agreed on our strategy the other night, the entire thing was still fundamentally flawed without some more help from the outside.

Making up my mind, I triple-checked that the door to the hallway was closed before disclosing what we’d talked about. I told them about the tunnels, and how we were planning on leaving within a couple of nights at most when our window of opportunity was still open. Bonnie looked uncomfortable with that idea, and I shared those concerns alongside her, but she came around once I explained how that was the least dangerous out of all the dangerous routes we could’ve possibly taken, not that that was saying much. I mentioned Carver’s blueprints up in the office, and how we needed to get Clem and AJ without anybody noticing we had done so. Finally, after basically exhausting my word count for the week, I told them that we were likely going to have to steal some of the supplies from the campus – weapons were a must, with medicine, food and water being up there as well but not completely non-negotiable.

Rubbing my gloved hand over the ridges of my knuckles, I watched Mike and Bonnie’s faces try to process everything with little success.

“I know that that might’ve been information overload.”

“Ya think?” Mike chuckled bitterly, leaning forward to talk to me as I internally wished we could speed this process up. “Jesus… Okay, lemme ask you this: do you guys have an idea of where to meet up once you’re out?”

“No.”

“Do any of you know how to navigate those tunnels?”

“Not really.”

“Do you have a set of keys for getting them out of the gym? Or to get AJ out of the office?”

“ _Ergh_ … no.”

“And how about the distraction? Anybody figure out what to even use yet?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Wow. Really selling it there, aren’t you?” Mike sighed. I was starting to panic a little bit inside about the two of them forgoing this altogether, seeing’s how question after question was left unanswered or ambiguous. “So, let me get this straight. You guys were just gonna go ahead and bust outta NCS with no idea of where to go, no backup, and not even a damn idea of where to even start _looking_ for Clementine? You know she could be in any number of locations by this point, right?”

“She’s running out of time, Mike. You saw how she looked – a couple more weeks of that, and the kid will be a skeleton,” I scowled at the table, my lips corkscrewing in anger at just the thought of it. “And none of her crew can keep living like that forever. One of them’s gonna snap or make a mistake, and something tells me that Carver’s not one to tolerate those.”

“…she’s got a point.”

“Oh, so _now_ you’re all for it?”

“You were stuck in their position once too, Mike. You know what that captivity does to you,” Bonnie tapped lightly on her head. “Besides… if we don’t do somethin’, anythin’ at all, and they end up gettin’ captured again or worse? We’re gonna regret that for the rest of our lives.”

Mike obviously had reservations about the shaky ground that this plan stood upon, to which I could hardly disagree with the man, but eventually he nodded in acceptance. “Alright then,” he agreed, moving to stand up as the rest of us did the same, “what do you need from us?”

Walking out into the fresh air, I checked both ways to make sure that nobody was listening in before shrugging my shoulders. “Luke, Kenny and Rebecca would probably know more about that than I would. Maybe talk to them?” I suggested, anxious to stop this conversation and head out before I was late. “Just… find out what you can. Maybe they’ve come up with something else in the meantime. Not likely, but you never know.”

“There’s still the matter of the keys,” Bonnie reminded us. “Neither of us were given a set, and I reckon none of the higher-ups are gonna be willin’ to just hand us a pair without a damn good reason.”

“…leave that part to me,” I trailed off, leaving a slightly confused Mike and Bonnie behind to ponder over my insistence that that wouldn’t be a concern. I’d been thinking about how to get those keys for the past ten minutes or so, and while it definitely wouldn’t be an easy task, I had a hunch about one person who might’ve been persuaded to help guide me along my path.

But that was still a work in progress, as of then. In the meantime, I had an angry asshole to attend to, likely losing his patience about me having kept him waiting for so long.

Welp, I guess it was now or never.

* * *

 

 

“Nice to see you’ve finally woken up.”

William Carver, I had quickly discovered once I spotted him perched upon a picnic bench close to the convention plaza, was not a patient man. He’d fooled me into thinking the opposite with our first couple of encounters, but once you saw past all the bluster and _ra-ra_ that he used to scare people into doing what he said, the flaws really started to shine through. When he wasn’t giving speeches to rile up his followers or dishing out slave labour to capitalize on his bumbling infrastructure, Carver truly, at his core, didn’t like to give the time of day to those he thought to be beneath him. Pretty sure I was starting to fall into that category, and seeing the weapon that he carried haphazardly in his grip, I mumbled an apology to try and get his attention back to the task at hand.

He held a twelve-gauge shotgun in his grasp, likely fully-loaded and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. The thing was pretty worn-looking and weathered on the sides with time and use over the years, and it was already menacing to gaze upon by itself even without the psychopath who was wielding it in his lap.

Seemed to be a little excessive use of force if he was so dead-set on this being a quick search of the place. Hmph. Maybe he’d finally come to his senses about this after all.

Hopping off the table, the fur collar of Carver’s signature coat bounced with every step he took towards the tunnel entrance. “I already swept the perimeter – nothing out of the ordinary from the looks of things, but you can’t ever be too careful. The entrance is this way.”

The plaza itself hadn’t seen much use over the years. Various booths were left untouched on the main floor, filled with old flyers, deflated balloons, scraps of confetti, buttons and various other paraphernalia that littered the ground; a glimpse into the past of what student life here must’ve been like on the day of the outbreak. I didn’t have time to stop and peruse any of the articles, but a quick glimpse revealed that some of the buttons read “Vote for Winston” on them in bold, bright lettering. Must’ve been a school election celebration going on, or something of the like. Too bad that the guy’s term ended before it even began.

Didn’t really seem like that was the only event going on that day, though. The far side of the convention hall was decked out with portable folding tents accompanied by matching tables sitting dormant below them. Empty water jugs occasionally rolled back and forth as the wind picked up, and from a distance I could make out the furnishings of some kind of trades show – home and garden, if the decorated pottery was anything to go by.

The building itself ran up into the sky like a spiral, whirling this way and that as it seemed to touch the clouds. Floor after floor of old professors’ offices, with hallways often blocked with photocopy machines and hastily boarded up with whatever materials could be salvaged within the vicinity. A couple of the handrails I’d looked at had bloody handprints forever pasted on them, coupled with old scraps of linen and bone settling on the carpeted flooring – a grim reminder of the initial days of the outbreak. It must’ve been utter chaos around this place at first, with nobody really understanding what was going on or what they were supposed to do about it, and with people – kids and young adults alike – scrambling to return to their friends and family, I could only imagine that many of them died before even taking a foot outside.

Strong hands opened a security gate that screeched along the ground after likely not having been moved for years. “Ladies first,” Carver offered, not out of the kindness of his own heart but out of a precaution that I’d be the first to die if anything were to sneak up on us down here. He and Troy were so damn similar in that regard.

Hah! And they said that chivalry was dead.

Biting my tongue, I unsheathed my survival knife and descended into the subway tunnel for the second time.

I hadn’t been looking forward to returning to this place any more than my dread of the first go-around. Thankfully though, this section wasn’t nearly as claustrophobic as the entrance we’d gone through previously, but with very little light aside from Bill’s dimming flashlight, I felt it necessary to keep a hand on the wall just to keep my sense of direction. The walls felt kind of slimy with the early morning dew still clinging to its surface, and it smelled of mold by the time we got to the bottom of the staircase. A ticket booth rested unused and unfurnished on the side, and while I at first thought that it may’ve been worth taking a look for scavenging supplies, I wasn’t too keen on staying down here any longer than I had to. More cautionary construction tape dangled from the top of the booth, and walking past that revealed a few rows of titanium turnstiles that took you to the main platform.

“Damn shame they’d stopped construction of this so abruptly,” Bill commented with a scratch of his itchy beard. “Would’ve been nice having a transportation system in place. Mighty loud, mind you, but with the right precautions, I think we could’ve made it work.”

It was difficult to picture Bill as an engineer in his previous life when the man so consistently portrayed himself like the devil incarnated. You couldn’t dispute his intelligence, given how he managed to set up yet another community within a month of the original one falling, but smarts didn’t mean a whole lot when everyone around you was calling for your head.

I myself had lost count of the number of times I wished a walker would just jump out beside Carver and take him down, seeing’s how I certainly wasn’t about to make a move with a dingy little knife in my hands.

Sadly, it didn’t seem like that wish was going to be granted today. The central station was completely devoid of anything, living or dead, and aside from the smell that’d started accumulating the further we searched, this place was almost untouched.

“This can’t be right,” Carver remarked as he lowered the shotgun. “It shouldn’t be this dark in here. We checked all the breakers – the lights should be working in this section. The backup generator should’ve kicked in by now, at the very least.”

“So what does that mean?”

“…could just be nothing,” he whispered, staring up at the ceiling and narrowing his one remaining eye. “But look there, see? Those cables should be feeding into the main power grid through a conductor or a conduit, but they’ve been cut. Deliberately. Nobody in their right mind would slice through a live wire like that unless they specifically wanted to tamper with it – the things are kept out of sight for a reason.”

And it wasn’t just those that’d been messed with. The further we explored, the more oddities we came across. Scaffolding, although still standing upright, had had pieces taken off and out of sight, with various clothing pieces hanging on the remaining poles as if they were being dried after a rinse. Three different forklifts stood perfectly in line with each other, their front ends lifted up to display a grizzly scene of human eyeballs sticking onto the ends of the forks as though they were watching our every move, although any and all blood that may’ve been contributed had long since been cleaned up. A compactor stood nearby, having presumably been used recently if the flat surface of asphalt on the other side of the tracks was any indication, forming a path into another service tunnel which we slowly started trekking towards. Signs that had labelled the tram stops for citizens exiting aboveground had been scratched out and replaced with strange, unclear names such as “Altar”, “Collection”, “Gathering” and “Sacrifice”, and when we finally managed to briskly walk past all of those, we stumbled upon something we really couldn’t understand.

An archway, as wide and long as half of the convention plaza, stood before us, covered head to toe in exposed sewage and natural gas pipelines that flowed up above until they disappeared back behind the concrete. Memorabilia from the old days of NCS were scattered about and taped to the walls, many of which had writings upon them that had been cut out to spell even more stupid mumbo-jumbo that only encouraged a headache from trying to decipher.

_Strange that we should fall_

_Only to rise again once more_

_Does our earthly flesh retain its soul?_

_Or shall we become lost to the void?_ _Broken? Forgotten?_

_We shall honour those we have lost_

_By congregating our flock_

_Collecting our transformed brothers and sisters_

_And discerning their newfound purpose_

_We wish to understand_

_We wish to be enlightened_

_Do not resist our belief_

_Those that do shall aid our awareness regardless_

_For we shall see them transformed and collected_

_Walk not into the light_

_The pit awaits._

It was a weird feeling, this. I knew right there that I should’ve been scared. I should’ve been mortified that all of the signs, riddles and carnage had all been leading me to this one location, but all I felt in that moment was a sort of… _finality,_ I guess. It was sort of nice to know that I wasn’t just going crazy, and now that Carver was actually witnessing this too, maybe his focus would turn more towards this mystery than to Clemen-

_Whoosh!_

My head darted about in the dark, searching for the source of the noise as my heart pounded inside of my chest. Knife drawn and ready to strike at a moment’s notice, I went to look for Bill only to curse myself upon realizing the bastard had vanished. The little pricks of hair on my neck started to rise in tune with the churning in my stomach, and every possibly conceivable notion in my mind was telling me to haul ass out of that undercroft. Either I had outlived my usefulness to Carver and was about to meet an untimely end, or the guy had just been captured and/or (hopefully) killed down here, in which case I’d probably be next regardless if I were too slow on the jump.

_Whoosh!_

Carver had the only flashlight between the two of us, so as much as I could hear that something was moving in the room with me, there was no real telling where it was coming from or what it actually was. I could probably rule out a walker, at least, since I would’ve heard the damn thing gargling at me by now. But nobody had called out to me, fired a shot or done anything of the sort to let me know what they wanted, so all I could do was hope that my ears were working as well as I thought they could.

I backed up slowly until I nearly fell off the ledge and onto the train tracks, hearing the sound again before suddenly drawing my attention to a singular light dangling from the roof a few feet beside me. It was incredibly muted, simply swaying back and forth almost supernaturally with the force of an invisible hand.

Gulping, I made sure to try and look around before approaching, but once I did reach the mysterious object, my suspicions had been confirmed – I was most definitely not alone. At all.

A little boy, the same one I’d seen about eight days ago, stared wide-eyed at me, as though _I_ was the creepiest thing in this dank, spacious subway system and not the other way around. He had no weapons that I could see, instead simply sporting the same beige wool sweater from before and a light brown pair of cargo pants. The boy hadn’t seemed to have washed his face in weeks, which I found strange seeing’s how his clean-shaven head suggested that he’d at least thought about some degree of personal appearance, unless of course somebody forced him to do this. He didn’t look to be that much older than Clementine, maybe mid-teens at most, but the scowl upon his lips made him seem older and as intimidating as most men I’d come across.

There was no way that I was letting go of this knife, not down here, but I carefully stepped closer and opened my mouth to speak before he raised one finger slightly out in front of him.

_One day left,_ was my initial thought, remembering how much time had passed since this kid had warned me after we turned the electricity on, but instead of saying anything to me, the boy took his finger and brought it back to his lips.

Confusion must’ve been etched across my face, but it quickly turned to shock as Carver finally revealed himself; branding the shotgun as he pressed the weapon right against the kid’s temple. The man must’ve figured something was up and decided to hide out until I made the first move.

Jackass.

“That’s enough, son,” he calmly told him, way too calm in fact to be on the cusp of blowing a child’s brains out. “Now, I think my friend and I here are owed an explanation as to all this. You’re trespassing on our property, kid. I think it’d be in your best interest to start talking.”

The boy didn’t flinch. He didn’t even break a sweat with a loaded gun aimed to his head, and certainly didn’t try to make a move towards Carver as I watched him frown with an itchy trigger finger. Come to think of it, I’d never actually seen the guy lose control over anything, even on the day that Clem turned herself in, so watching Bill slowly start to grit his teeth simply over a boy not answering him was kind of astounding. The teen apparently only had eyes for me, and I could hear the gears turning inside my head as I tried to interpret what he was silently telling me.

And as he blinked, only one thing came to mind.

_You shouldn’t be here. I told you to leave._

Cocking the weapon back with a _snap,_ Carver lowered it to his side before roughly grabbing the child by the collar and yanking it towards his maimed face. “I’m giving you to the count of three,” he barked, “you’re going to tell me exactly what you’ve been doing down here, as well as how and why you’ve been terrorizing our group for the past couple of weeks. I’m sure you can piece together what’ll happen if you don’t cooperate.”

Still, nothing. He hadn’t even let his finger leave his mouth, nor had he moved his eyes despite Carver now blocking the kid’s view of me.

It was like Bill wasn’t even there.

“Guess we’re doing this the hard way, then,” growled Carver, shoving the boy onto his ass upon the train tracks as he trained his weapon on him. I felt sorry for the strange kid in a way, but with perplexity clouding my already-troubled mind, there wasn’t a whole lot of room left in there for me to step in. I had questions, too. “One.”

The bald teen dusted himself off, pulled himself upright, and placed his finger back against his lips. The international symbol for _quiet,_ just like him.

Carver, apparently not finding this exchange any less unpleasant than I was, fired a warning shot into the air that echoed down the tunnels and all around. If we had seen any walkers down here, I would’ve been pissed at the man’s utter disregard for survival, but the kid was obviously starting to get to him.

_“Two.”_

And there it was – a gaze switch. The teenager turned his head towards the menacing Carver, who was about five seconds away from killing him, and pulled his hand away; retaining the singular finger in the air. The move was calm and calculated, as if he’d rehearsed this a thousand times, before he fully extended his hand and made an eerie, macabre whistling sound – one note high, and then one low.

Whistling this same pattern twice more, the boy closed his eyes and breathed deeply, whether out of an acceptance of his imminent death or that he was simply tired of this whole exchange, I didn’t know.

One by one, though, more of those odd lights started turning on, leading down a small corridor as the boy slowly turned around and continued to whistle again down this newly-lit path. I tried to look at Carver in order to see what he wanted to do, but he didn’t give me the time of day; instead charging ahead when the boy turned the first corner and disappeared. Seeing’s how I didn’t leave any sort of tracking signal for myself to follow in order to find my way back out in the dark, I groaned lightly and followed along.

What a fucking mistake that was, in hindsight.

I was alone, then, trying to squeeze my way through the tight passageway and accompanied only by the echoing music of that kid’s continuous whistling. The brick here looked pretty old as I walked along, grabbing handfuls of clay and dust every time I reached onto the wall. Coughing and spluttering when some of the dust reached my lungs, I crept slower still when that single sound turned into a chorus of tens, maybe more. My disturbed mind ran wild with possibilities of what was happening at the end of this corridor, but whatever it was I’d been expecting before certainly had nothing on what I witnessed going forward.

There had to have been over fifty cultists down here, all varying in ages and genders, but all with completely-shaved heads similar to the teen’s. They hadn’t all been wearing the same clothing, but the looks upon their faces were remarkably similar – stone cold, emotionless, and merciless. All of them were whistling that same melody as I passed, making my way forward while I tried to just keep my head down and get through what felt like an endless sea of survivors. How nobody had seen a group in this day and age with these sheer numbers was a testament to how isolated they were, yet with every single one of them warbling out the same haunting tune, I got the feeling that they had likely been brainwashed in some way.

_Hiiiiigggghhhhh…. Loooooowwwww…._

_Hiiiiigggghhhh…. Loooooowwwww…._

Forming a nearly symmetrical shape around me, I chanced a look past these weirdos and at my surroundings as a few small holes in the dirt above our heads revealed exactly what we were standing in. This was once an underground pavilion for transit-goers that had been modified to serve as the cultists’ headquarters. Benches were sprawled out and arranged in an orderly fashion leading up to, funnily enough, the debate podium from upstairs in the convention plaza, with a large clock in the centre with four faces that had been repurposed as an underground compass. Several stores had been turned into areas for sleeping and eating, but what stood out to me were several of the cages that surrounded the podium; all filled with walkers who, oddly enough, didn’t actually look that interested in all the free prancing meals on legs surrounding them. Admittedly, there seemed to be something edible in the bottom of their cages, but they weren’t even going for those at the moment. Since when were walkers not hungry?

Those cages, though… something looked really familiar about them. The shape, the texture, the colour… I had a nagging feeling that I’d seen that same design somewhere before.

Carver was pacing in the middle of the circle as the cultists started to close in around us. None of them were being particularly threatening, but the encroaching nutjobs together with their refusal to do anything but whistle was making them all seem larger than life. I ended up finding myself back-to-back with Carver despite my absolute loathing of the man.

“Got any ideas?” I whispered, making sure to keep my voice nice and low so that nobody else would catch on.

“Just one,” he told me, raising the shotgun higher as I immediately started to protest.

“How about a plan that doesn’t involve us getting put into that walker jail? Not that _you’re_ a stranger to putting people in cages…”

“I’ll let that slide this one time, Jane,” Carver snipped back, but by the tone of his voice, I could tell the man was getting scared. “And if you haven’t noticed, we’re the only ones with weapons here. Couple of shots to the head, and we’ll make a break for it.”

“They’re fucking _everywhere!_ Even if you kill a few of them it’s not gonna make a difference! We’ll be surrounded!”

“Looks to me like we already are,” Bill grunted, apparently having already made up his mind as he aimed his shotgun right at the boy we found earlier. Leering at the child, who made no attempt to get out of the way, Carver’s finger started to motion towards the trigger when all of a sudden, the whistling completely stopped.

Silence quickly filled the room. Dead silence, with not even the captured walkers making a sound as the circle parted slightly. Bill and I both turned towards the gap when a middle-aged man with a thin beard, sharp, green eyes and a full head of light, brown hair approached us with his hands delicately placed behind his back. He carried himself with a degree of authority, accentuated by the fact that apparently he was the only person in this group without access to a shaving razor, and although his face appeared almost welcoming in a way, I couldn’t help but be disturbed by him. He looked way too smug, and his eyes held the presence of malice to them.

Stepping in front of the both of us, the man took in our appearances, smiled – fucking _grinned_ – and held his hands out wide.

“Peace be to you, children of the next world,” he proclaimed. “How wonderful it is to meet the uninitiated – we’ve been patiently awaiting your arrival. May I ask you for your names?”

Carver and I glanced at each other briefly, wondering if it was even worth trying to acknowledge this man, Carver turned to him first and spoke directly. “My name’s Bill, and this is Jane.”

“Excellent. Now, who speaks on your behalf?”

Choosing to keep my mouth shut in case he tried to ask me something I wasn’t comfortable with answering, I watched Carver out of the corner of my eye as he stiffened. “I speak for myself.”

I didn’t know whether William was trying to throw me under the bus here or not, since he was basically saying that the two of us had no association, but if the man understood that, he paid it no heed.

“Then I suspect that you shall be the mouthpiece for your community, as I am for my fellow men and women. You may call me Reginald, and I am the shepherd of my flock: The Disciples of the New World,” he stated, seeing right through Carver and folding his hands together. “I apologize if our hospitality has seemed uncouth. We have been on a pilgrimage for some time now, you see, and did not expect to make a return so quickly.”

“You were here before?” Carver hesitantly asked. This ‘Reginald’ dude was well-spoken, every word being articulate and directed in a way that made those around him listen intently, regardless of the nonsense being spewed out.

If it weren’t for the fact that this was our first time meeting any of these people, I’d swear the two of them were almost identical twins.

Reginald chuckled at that, placing his hands on his hips. “Perhaps our signs weren’t quite as forthcoming as we anticipated. But yes, this was our holy ground, for a time,” he explained, face darkening slightly as he spoke. “We set out upon a glorious purpose; to take it upon ourselves to find the answers to the questions we’d been seeking for two years. And we were almost upon a breakthrough in our understanding, but alas, we had been sidetracked.”

Reginald observed the reactions of his people, as though he would personally disseminate anybody who would dare make a protest to that, but I couldn’t notice any discernable difference in any of their expressions. Was this dude raising a following of robots or something? Because that was the only possible thing that I could think of as to why they’d all be standing around here, mouths closed shut and obeying like the good little puppies they were.

More distressing, however, was the fact that even if none of these people looked to have (or simply weren’t allowed to have) any individual opinions of their own, all that meant was that this Reginald guy had absolute, complete control over them. The guy had a walking army at his disposal, and I wondered briefly if Carver was figuring that out too.

I really didn’t understand why they would listen to this little dictator here, though, when he appeared to be the only one pulling the strings. It wasn’t like the NCS situation, with a hierarchy and a chain of command that kept people in line.

“Look, Shakespeare,” Carver mocked, which only seemed to amuse the man, “I don’t care whether you found the answers you were looking for or not. Fact still is, NCS is our community now. We’ve settled it, and we’re continuing to operate it day by day. So, for the good of everyone here, I’d recommend that you take your folks, pack your shit up and hit the road.”

“Ha! I see you too think you have found all the answers, and yet here you stand – abhorrently ignorant of the questions. The _real_ questions, mind you.”

“And what are the “real” questions then, exactly?”

“From where I’m standing, I do not think it wise to advise the uninitiated on matters that they cannot truly comprehend. Our teachings would be wasted on the likes of you.”

“Try me.”

What in the world was Carver doing now? Five seconds ago, he basically told this crazy bastard with a taste for _Ye Olde English_ to fuck off, and now he was trying to _talk_ to him? Now wasn’t the time for me to try and ask, obviously, but I thought the priority was getting the hell out of here, not to butter him up and goad Reginald into delivering another speech – not that this clown needed much coaxing for that.

“…you are people of violence,” he had the audacity to say, “and in order to truly understand our ways, you must first relinquish yourself of all hatred, desire and selfishness. Somehow I doubt that your vulgarity will disappear after one conversation.”

I wanted to call bullshit on that, to chew him out for all the people this group had strung up, killed and mutilated for no clear-cut reason, but I instead scowled at the man as Reginald titled his head towards me.

“I see that you think I jest; that we are all simply savages who kill for pleasure and no other purpose rather than to frighten those we consider to do us harm. However, that couldn’t be further from the truth,” he smirked at me, chuckling when I flinched over the knowledge that he knew where I’d be going with this. “Our sight has no limits, my dear. The walls are our eyes and ears, and woe to those who disrupt our grand design. All who enter these passages are tested – you, my child, were fortunate enough to glance upon one of our disciples. Andre here had wandered from the flock for only a moment before he realized what was going on.”

So, the kid’s name was Andre, huh? The boy in question who’d been haunting my nightmares recently shirked at the attention that was placed upon him, but with a little persuasion from an older woman wearing an NCS hoodie who stood behind him, Andre nodded over at his grand master.

Funny how the kid could be so unwavering with Carver and a shotgun to the face, and yet shrivel into a ball when his own family basically chastised him for getting lost. Couldn’t begin to imagine what growing up with these fucks must’ve been like.

“Lucky me.”

“Most people aren’t,” he nodded, either ignoring my sarcasm altogether or perching so high upon his horse that all normal human understanding had since left him completely. “Primarily, we wish to stay hidden, tucked away from the temptations of the outside world, but as of late we have been… let’s say, a bit careless. You were not the first to witness our coming, nor shall you be the last, I fear.”

“I suppose the spying really shouldn’t surprise me. Neither should the lies,” Carver broke in, giving me a sideways glare before starting towards Reginald. A couple of the younger cultists stepped in to try and block his path, but he quickly brushed them aside. “But staying under our radar for this long is mighty impressive. I’m a little astonished at how you’ve kept a crew this large together for so long, honestly.”

“Truly?”

“Don’t mistake my admiration for your methods as acceptance for this arrangement to continue,” Bill forewarned, “I don’t want us to come to blows here, I’ll tell you that right up front. But having an unknown crew like yours hiding right underneath our doorstep just wouldn’t sit well with my community. And if Jane here was the only person who you’d actually shown your face to until now, well frankly I can’t begin to imagine what your intentions are.”

Reginald shook his head with that stupid smile on his face as he motioned towards the benches. “Perhaps an explanation would be best,” he told us, rounding up all of the disciples as they made their way over to their version of a set of pews. One by one they gathered as though they were all going to church on a Sunday, and, seeing no real alternative exits at the moment, I cautiously took a seat as well. The boy from earlier, Andre, sat to my right as Carver plopped to my left. The boy glanced up at me and bit his lip, as if wondering if what he was about to do was a good idea, before sighing and slipping a small piece of paper into my hand.

Furrowing my brow, I went to open it up before Andre placed his hand overtop of mine, shaking his head and mouthing _‘later’_ before turning his attention back to the front. Getting a secret note from a bald-headed kid who prior to this had shown zero indication of ever wanting to help me out was troubling, but I quickly pocketed the thin paper before Bill could see anything was amiss.

Once everyone was settled in, Reginald stepped up to his little podium, cleared his throat and raised his hands out to the side. “Before we begin, Roseanne? Would you care to recite the chant? Psalm forty-eight C, if you please.”

A woman who was just a little bit taller than me stood up, clearing her throat and closing her eyes before she began to belt out some more crazed messages that fit well within the structure of the rest of them. She didn’t even need a book or a paper or anything, having memorized exactly what she was about to say.

This ‘pilgrimage’ must’ve afforded her a lot of free time on her hands.

_“Let those of us present today_

_Bear witness to our coming into the world_

_We shall not dwell on the sins of our past_

_For so we have been granted new life and new purpose_

_That we might better understand the world and its mysteries_

_And one day spread our influence to cover every corner of the land._

_Our collection grows ever faster_

_While our hearts and minds collectively beat as one_

_Until our dying day_

_When we too shall aid the offering_

_And contribute to the betterment_

_Of The Disciples of the New World._

_May the blanket of night_

_Shield us from the torment of day._

_For the usurper’s light shall only bring destruction_

_As we wait in the shadows.”_

“THE PIT AWAITS,” suddenly cried out all of the cultists at once, startling Carver and I with just how devoted they all seemed to be to their made-up ideology. But there was that last part again – _light bringing destruction._ I still wasn’t sure exactly what their problem was, whether these guys were secretly a vampire coven on top of everything else (which really wouldn’t have surprised me) or they really didn’t appreciate getting sunburns.

The more that I questioned all of this, however, the more that Andre’s note was burning a hole in my pocket. I so badly wanted to just reach in and read the words aloud like some kind of scroll, but at the same time, I wasn’t entirely sure if I could trust any of what the kid would be trying to tell me. After all, whether he actually wanted to help me or not, the boy was still a part of these cultists, and there was absolutely no way I could trust anything that these guys had to say.

Besides, I’d seen this kind of movie before. The second I’d read the weird letter would be the second my eyes melted out of my skull.

“These walls once held vast arrays of knowledge. Men, women and children of every race and creed would come to this campus, seeking that wisdom for their own personal gain. Many of our own were once pupils of North Carolina State,” Reginald explained, receiving quite a few reluctant nods and murmurs from various people in the crowd. “But they were all of them, deceived. Tricked into believing the man-made fairy tales of the old world, where they knew only of commerce, exploitation and greed. History was built through preying upon the weak and fearful, all in the name of monetary attachments which were a poison on society. Now tell me, William and Jane… what good has the old world history done for us since that time?”

Thinking that it was more of a rhetorical question, I chose not to answer as Carver wisely did the same. In this room, Reginald had the grip of a steel trap; he was in his comfort zone, and was using the advantage he had to try and keep us guessing as to what he’d do next.

But boy, oh boy, did this dude love to chat. He probably didn’t even notice how ridiculous he looked, preaching to us about what he himself thought was wrong with everything before when in fact the majority of civilization would want to go back to those times in a heartbeat.

“I can fully admit that I, myself, was once part of the problem. Being a professor here, I went along with their barbaric educational system, as well as the regulations and unspoken rules that went along with feeding my students through the grinder of the so-called ‘civilized’ world,” he spat, looking disgusted with his antics as he slammed a fist onto the podium. “Soon after, I’d realized my mistake. I had set my students up to brave a future that no longer existed,” he explained. “But those who remained, students and faculty alike, I took in and showed them a better way. A brighter future. And soon our numbers flourished, with yet more people coming in from around the state at the news of a successful community over at the school. We learned not to fear the dead, but instead to study them; to understand their thought processes and motivations. After all, the dead are an extension of our earthly flesh. It is pointless to deny this fact.”

So, _that’s_ what this asshole did. Taking the scared and vulnerable after a catastrophe and twisting their minds around to the point of total obedience, with no regard for the lives they’d taken or the shit they’d pulled. The guy had manipulated and indoctrinated these people into his wacky, despicable ideas, and now that he had the hearts and minds of all of them, he could literally tell them anything and expect no repercussions from any of it.

Sounded like a fucking modern-day Nazi to me, but I got the feeling that none of his ‘disciples’ felt the same way. They probably didn’t even realize that anything was wrong.

“The walkers are _dead._ They’re mindless killing machines. That’s all. Trying to understand them is a fool’s errand,” Carver argued, and although I was certain that Reginald wouldn’t appreciate the interruption, the priest actually appeared to enjoy the fact that he’d get the chance to pursue his side of the argument. Must’ve been that old teacher’s itch that’d sparked something inside.

Turning towards one of the cages, Reginald lightly placed his hand on one of the bars and lightly stroked it. “Does this man look soulless to you?” he questioned. I had to admit, even though I actually agreed with Bill on this issue one-hundred percent, the fact that the walker hadn’t tried to munch on the guy’s hand yet was kind of surprising. “Have you ever glimpsed into the eyes of the undead, ever let go of that basic primal instinct of fear to gaze upon them? I have seen sentience in those eyes – a raw emotion of hunger, to be sure, but also a comprehension of the world that we as mortals could only dream of. This right here… this is the final step of human evolution,” he chattered on, sighing with content as he almost longingly stared at what was essentially a rotting carcass. “We’re on the precipice of a breakthrough here. We shall rewrite the history books, and, if the world is ready to absorb such an insight, spread the joy of our discovery across the land. No longer will it simply be ashes to ashes, dust to dust – by accepting that the dead blessed us for a purpose, we shall find enlightenment. All we have to do is reach out and grasp it by the reins!”

But Bill wasn’t backing down on this. “That’s not a man – he’s a walking corpse. And if you honestly believe that these things have some sort of intelligence, then why is it that they’ve been eating people alive? Where’s the ‘soul’ part in that?”

Witnessing a philosophical debate in an underground crypt filled with a bunch of mindless drones over whether or not walkers were actually cognisant beings? Jesus… there had to have been a better way to spend my morning than this. I needed a coffee. Badly.

Reginald turned towards his spectating crowd with an unspoken question, to which, surprisingly, there were actually a few _nays_ coming from the audience.

“They haven’t been initiated! They haven’t passed the trial!”

“They don’t follow our ways!”

“They desecrated our sacred ground with their light! They should not be allowed entry!”

“My brothers and sisters, please! This is the only way. Remember what I taught you,” Reginald reassured them, settling the crowd and leaning forward on the podium. “Our way of life is complex. We started out simply enough, fixing up the campus buildings as best we could, protecting our children and loved ones from intruders and the dead alike. But the more time that we spent around the deceased, the more convinced we became that we could coexist; that we could live peacefully among our fallen brethren, and find a way to live that didn’t involve killing each other mindlessly, root and stem.”

“And what way was that, exactly?” Carver asked dubiously, still cradling the shotgun in his lap and likely just wanting this to be over and done with. I was still concerned that he’d just try to shoot the place up and get us both killed in the process, but for now at least, he seemed to be holding back.

Reginald thoughtfully narrowed his eyes. “You should know, William,” he insinuated, “after all… you’ve been keeping them fed for us.”

Growling lowly at that, Carver bunched his hand up into a fist as I became fixated on what he just implied. _The Pit awaits…_ So they were the ones who’d created that fucking mosh pit of walkers, which also meant that the cage Clem had locked herself in was their doing, too. I knew those damn iron bars looked familiar! There was no way Bill could’ve realized that keeping the walkers satiated was ultimately playing right into this cult’s hands, even though the thought of another party being involved in all of this craziness didn’t sit well with me.

But… _why?_ I still didn’t understand what the point was of keeping them all cooped up in that hole. They clearly weren’t a peaceful group, not with all the murdering they’d done in other sections of the tunnels as well as all across the school. I started getting that the messages were a means to keep people out of their territory, and that they truly believed that they could try and study the dead to ‘better understand them’ or some other such nonsense, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was some ulterior motive to all of this.

Besides, if they had managed to plant that many walkers into that one utility building, then where were the rest of them?

“We’ve been amassing quite the assortment of undead for a while now,” he answered my unspoken question. “We’ve taken to calling the process ‘Collecting’. We gather up all the dead we can find across the city, and guide them to a new home; a new ‘Pit’, one for each location in the tunnels. We have heard whispers of others practicing a similar craft, far, far away from this place, but we have not ventured further enough outside of our own home to investigate. Perhaps one day, when we’ve exhausted all of our findings in Raleigh, we’ll seek out like-minded civilians. But not today.”

Wait a minute… a ‘new Pit’? As in, there was more than one of those portals to hell? God dammit… I guessed that map Alvin was describing had some truth to it after all. Those ‘P’s’ weren’t just random labels, they were a whole assortment of different pits, each one of them likely filled to capacity if the vacancies up on the surface were anything to go by.

Folding his arms across his chest with a sneer, Reginald glared a hole into Carver and continued. “It is unfortunate, however, that your people clearly cannot read even the most simplistic of instructions. Turning the electrical power on has cost us greatly. The dead have become agitated, and have not responded well to our stimuli as a result.”

“So you’re angry about me flicking on a light switch? Is that what this is all about?”

“I wouldn’t put it into quite so elementary a term as that, but yes. That, and other issues that’ve come up.”

“That electricity is a safeguard against the outside world. Without power, that place is just another set of empty buildings.”

“Electricity is a property of the old ways. It is not necessary for survival.”

“Oh really? Well, then I guess all that medicine we found doesn’t need to be refrigerated after all,” Carver quipped, smirking as Reginald widened his eyes at the claim.

“You…” he stammered, losing his focus as a handful of his disciples started to take notice. “You’re bluffing.”

“Hmm… insulin pens, hepatitis A and B vaccines, penicillin, aspirin… All of them unlocked from the container through electrical power, which I’m sure as shit you wouldn’t have been able to access. All safely tucked away in cold storage,” Carver leered, standing up. “That sound like a bluff to you?”

I swear Reginald’s eye started twitching alongside the vein starting to protrude from his forehead. Carver undoubtedly knew that, with a group this size, medicine would’ve been a luxury out here. They may have been able to handle themselves with basic, everyday matters of survival, but even the strongest of people could fall victim to illness and injury.

Bill had him right by the balls… not that I really cared, though. I didn’t want to be around either of these egomaniacs any longer.

The more agitated Reginald became, the more that Bill’s smirk threatened to tear his face in half.

“By rights, that medicine is our property… and you would hold it for ransom, when you know deep in your heart that our people shall suffer for it?” he seethed, slamming a fist onto the podium and startling some of the cultists sitting in the front row. “We are not people of violence, and I have always been clear on that matter. But tell me, William, do you truly believe that you can get away with this treachery? Knowing fully well that we have the both of you surrounded?”

All of the disciples, literally every god damned one, were staring at us now, waiting either for the command to tear us apart, or to wait with bated breath as to what Carver would say next. One flick of Reginald’s hand, and we’d be trampled on, no questions asked.

Not people of violence, my ass! We were fucked if Carver didn’t read the room properly!

Bill though, for his part, seemed to relish the attention being placed on him; as though he had had an ace in the hole during the course of the entire exchange. “I think you’ve got me all wrong here, Reginald. I didn’t mean that as a taunt. I proposed it as an _offer,_ ” he stated plainly, standing up and ushering me to do the same as I started backing away. Five of the cultists quickly followed and grabbed onto both of my arms, preventing my escape. I squirmed and struggled against their grip, but a quick knee in the back kept me bent forward and complacent for the time being.

I only felt their constraint lessen when Reginald gave the order to stand down.

“So then… what are the terms of this arrangement?”

“Easy, really. We’ll throw in a fifth of our medicine to help your people, as well as a handful of miscellaneous supplies that we don’t need. Plus, as a show of good faith, I’ll even redirect the electrical grid and turn off the lights in the tunnels so you folks can continue your weird, little science experiments in peace.”

“…and in return?”

Carver, with his shotgun hanging loosely out in front of him, motioned his head towards me. “You let the both of us go. Unharmed,” he added, more likely just to save his own skin rather than mine. “And you pack your bags and leave. Anywhere. I’ll even let you stay in North Carolina, so long as you take your walker friends with you, and don’t come out to bother our people again. No communication, no contact. Nothing.”

This whole thing was a gamble, and I didn’t like our odds. My arms were still being held captive by my detainers, and one nod from the man in charge would’ve had both of them pulled right out of my sockets like a doll.

Reginald stood there for far longer than I figured was necessary, fighting a battle inside of his head as to whether or not they would take the deal. My heartbeat quickened when he slowly walked off the podium and over towards Bill, who, for his part, didn’t look afraid in the slightest.

Scratching his chin, I let out a huge breath of relief when Reginald told his followers to release me. “Make it half of the medicine, and we’ve got an arrangement.”

“Too high a price there. Make it a quarter.”

“A third, then.”

“…you drive a hard bargain there, my friend. Seems reasonable to me, though,” Carver held out his hand. “Now… are the terms acceptable enough for you?”

Glancing down to the hand in question, Reginald hesitated only for a moment before nodding and shaking back. “Let it not be said that the Disciples of the New World were not as generous as we should be. We will honour our end of the bargain, in two days’ time,” he emphatically stated, announcing it more so to the rest of the group. “In return, we shall expect your community to hold up your obligations to the same standard. Roseanne, Andre – escort them safely home, if you please.”

He must’ve noticed my surprise when the cultists cleared the path back to the exit, because Reginald directed his attention back to me.

“As I said before, Jane, we are not a violent company. We seek wisdom and virtue, nothing more. Although I must admit… your compatriot? The little girl?” he brought up as I was slowly steered aside. If he fucking touched one hair on that girl’s head, I swear to god… “We have watched her for some time now, with interest. Her behaviour, the patterns she portrays… she may yet be closer to understanding our ways than even she cares to know.”

“Don’t you go near that kid, you son of a – “

“Fare thee well, weary travellers. Fear not – our next meeting shall be much more pleasurable than this,” he cut me off, simply raising a parting hand and disappearing from view when I was forced to turn back around the corner.

* * *

 

It had to have been just after noon when we returned to the surface, and already I was practically kissing the dirt beneath my feet after just getting another taste of the sunshine. I never liked going underground as a kid, especially when it was on a monorail car with Mom and Dad, back before Jaime was even born. I preferred being able to see the sky above me, not a pile of dirt and rock that my pre-pubescent mind worried would soon collapse over my head. _“Don’t make me go down there!”_ , I’d tell them with a sad, scared face. _“You’ll be out before you know it, Jane. Don’t worry,”_ , they’d say in return.

Didn’t matter to me that they were right about that day, and every other time I’d had to use the subway back in Washington – I was still terrified of the things, and today certainly hadn’t calmed that dread.

Did we seriously just make it out of that festering disease-trench alive? And in one piece?

Andre had simply nodded at me by the time he and Roseanne took us back to the main staircase, but similarly to how it went down the first time I laid eyes upon the boy, he disappeared almost instantly.

Carver had been checking his watch for a while, mumbling to himself about some of the guards having to pull double-duty tonight before he sighed and turned back to me.

“Well… I’ll be the first one to admit it – I was wrong about it just being a ghost story,” he told me, sliding the strap of his shotgun behind his back. Yeah, no shit, Brainiac. “But I think that now, especially after we went through such an ordeal together, you can finally stop lying to me and come clean.”

“…about what, exactly?”

Carver ran a hand through his shaggy, greying hair, chortling and placing his hands upon his hips. “Keeping up the farce to the very end I see? You’re consistent, I’ll give you that. Just makes me wish that your stories held up as well,” he remarked, casually waving hello to Tavia when she passed by. “I knew it the second that girl stepped into my office last night, and I sure fucking knew it when you threatened their leader when we were leaving. Clementine might be a smart and dependable kid, but she probably wouldn’t have made it far without you. Gotta say, though, I appreciate you bringing her back to us in such a timely fashion.”

Stuttering, I tried to fumble over an excuse, but Carver snapped his fingers and growled at me.

“Enough bullshit, Jane! Fucking _enough!_ You’re really gonna try to pull another fast one over me? Especially when I find out from a bunch of underground cumwads that you withheld valuable intel on who exactly was down there?!” he barked, having gained back some of his usual douche-y demeanor. When I didn’t answer him right away, Carver shoved me in the shoulder and scowled. “You saw that kid – what’s his name, Andre? – way back on that tunnel raid, and never said a damn word! And I had to hear it from fucking Reginald of all people! First fucking day that we bring you into the fold, and _this_ is what happens?!”

“I… I’m sorry,” I faltered, gaze steadily pointing to the pavement. I couldn’t believe that I was actually apologizing to William Cocksucking Carver, but I didn’t want to give him more ammunition to use against me.

Y’know, aside from the actual ammo he’d probably inevitably lodge into my back once I turned around.

“Not gonna cut it this time, Jane. Strike one, missy – you’re officially on notice,” he pointed a calloused finger in my face. “I’m a firm believer in second chances, as you’re no doubt aware, but test me like that again, and I won’t be nearly as forgiving,” he warned. “…but make sure you’re well-rested for tomorrow night. I’m going to need every able-bodied person in this camp if our raid is gonna be successful. All hands on deck this time.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone! I’m sorry, but fucking _huh?!_

“Raid?” I asked with a dumbstruck tone. “What are you talking about? What about that deal you made?”

“Jesus, Jane… do I really need to spell this out for you? You didn’t honestly think I was gonna bend to a bunch of crackpots, did you?” he rolled his eye. “We’ve got guns and a good vantage point, while from what I could see, they’ve got a bunch of rocks and fists. Seems to me that if we get them first, we won’t have to worry about handing over even one pill.”

Christ… how in the actual fuck was our plan going to work if we were going to be forced into some stupid war that Bill was cooking up? Trying to turn the tables on their captors after letting them out of the gym would just be a suicide attempt, but trying to fight off these cultists who clearly outnumbered us might’ve been just as dangerous.

Knowing that it was now or never, I tried one last tactic to plant a little seed of doubt into the guy’s unsound mind. “Most of the people around here are already scared shitless of anything that goes bump in the night. You tell them that those boogeymen are real, and they’ll go fucking nuts,” I pointed out, hoping my reasoning was paying off. “Do you honestly think they’ll want to fight people like that? Especially once they learn that their whole basement is flooded with walkers? Somehow I doubt that they won’t just run for the hills instead.”

“Hmm… seems to be a common theme, that.”

“What is?”

“Running away.”

_Keep your nerve, Jane. Keep your god damned nerve,_ I told myself over and over, realizing far too late that I’d now just raised the guy’s suspicions even more. It was such a slight, offhanded comment, one that most people wouldn’t have even spared a passing thought to, but I had underestimated Carver’s paranoia about the subject. The last time somebody had tried running away, Howe’s was destroyed, people died, Clementine got away, and the rest of her crew almost took off with AJ.

It was no wonder that Bad Old Bill would be picking apart every word I said.

Fuck-up number two-hundred and sixty-seven for Jane. I should’ve been getting a lifetime achievement award for this shit.

“Get over to the infirmary, Jane. I want you helping Carlos for the rest of the day,” he prompted, dropping the subject and leaving me stranded with my jaw slacked open. “And be ready to act tomorrow on my signal. We’re gonna flush ‘em out of their holes. I’ve already killed one Reggie – a second one shouldn’t pose a problem.”

Watching Carver’s hunched form disappear towards one of the campus buildings, I sank onto a nearby picnic table and sighed before remembering what was still in my pocket. Figuring that it had been plenty of time now since the kid had given it to me, I took the crumpled-up piece of paper and folded out the creases on my knee.

_I warned you eight days ago,_ it read in a messy scrawl. _The Disciples are taking back your school tomorrow – few survivors planned for. Don’t believe the promises Reginald makes. Our leader’s got a plan that’ll wipe you all out. Take what you can and run before it’s too late._

I read over the note twice, no, three times more, before bringing my gaze up to scrutinize a weathered stop sign that stood nearby. The wind blew across my face as the chill started to settle upon my skin, but in that very moment, when all hope for a peaceful exit to this seemed lost, I actually smiled. Because right there, with the knowledge I now had about what both sides were planning to do, it no longer mattered if the two groups had ended up killing each other over a pointless, petty argument.

Me, Clem and the rest wouldn’t have to. The distraction was set, and now we just needed to bide our time. The keys were still an issue, obviously, and that conundrum had been stewing in my head all day, but I’d finally gotten around to an answer.

Carver might’ve not been a coward, but I certainly knew somebody who was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading, guys!
> 
> Oh, and before you ask – no, these are NOT the Whisperers. They might act in a similar way, but these guys aren’t nearly as organized, and with it still being so early in the apocalypse, the Whisperers wouldn’t even be around yet, anyways. However, you should know, I was very, very, VERY close to putting James and Charlie in this chapter, explaining how they would eventually find the Whisperers somewhere else, but I didn’t want to screw with the actual lore of TWD too much. I just thought I’d add in a little Easter egg with Reginald’s inspiration about that new group forming, though – a “whisper” if you will, hehe.
> 
> …ok, my puns might be terrible, but anyways. Just to make it perfectly clear, they aren’t the same thing. I don’t want it to seem like I’m just copying them, especially by having their process be called “Collecting”, but I still think that’s a general-enough term to use for gathering up a bunch of walkers.
> 
> Anyways, I’m starting the next chapter soon, so stay tuned for that if you’re interested! Feedback is always appreciated!


	10. Search

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive trigger warning before we get started, but this chapter will feature some pretty heavy stuff, mainly dealing with Jane and how she’s been coping with Troy in particular. If any of it at all makes you uncomfortable, I absolutely understand not wanting to read further with this chapter. I also want to apologize for not putting a warning in place prior to this – it was a stupid oversight on my part and I’ll try not to let it happen again.
> 
> Also, this chapter ended up being a million times longer than I’d originally planned, so hopefully it’s not a slog for you guys :3
> 
> Alright, thank you so much for continuing to support this story, guys :) It means the world to me that you’re all still here after I left this story on hiatus for as long as I did. Hope you all enjoy!

 

Well, I guess I was right about one thing, anyways.

This whole place was going fucking nuts.

Bill had made an announcement over the speakers this afternoon - which I didn’t even know worked at the time, and gave me quite a fright – about how there was to be a staff meeting out in the courtyard just outside the big football stadium. I didn’t bother attending, already having known exactly what it was about, and as such I’d simply bided my time in the infirmary with Carlos until they finished.

When the lot of them finally ended the meeting, the looks on their faces were absolutely priceless. Panic, fear and disbelief in equal measure, with many of them pacing back and forth on their respective patrols as if the cultists were about to come knocking at any second. Others had taken to heading back to the dorms, most likely to hide and try to wait out the coming storm, and more still were fidgeting over their weapons, pulling them apart and OCD’ing over just how many cartridges they had left.

Maybe it wasn’t strictly speaking “nice” of me to find all of this so amusing to behold from my perch at the third-floor window, but I wasn’t holding much in the way of sympathy for anybody who willingly chose to align themselves with Carver. I could understand their thought processes on a base level – after all, food, water, weapons and medicine, all under one roof? That was almost unheard of these days, since I knew from personal experience that many of the surrounding towns and cities, once filled with sprawling hubs of people, supplies and civilization, had quickly started becoming barren and worthless with each passing month. Having a place to rest at night, especially one that was consistent and gave you a soft bed that was just waiting for your warm embrace when you got back, was an enticing feeling that made it worth enduring a few quirks here and there. I wouldn’t deny that.

But sooner or later, despite all the creature comforts that a place like NCS might’ve brought, the flaws would eventually start to peel back. Prosperity brought with it greed and infighting over who was most deserving to actually attain those riches. Walls, once thought to be a safe harbor from the unspeakable hell of the outside world, started to feel confining as the panic set in about your asshole neighbour who lived just down the hall from you. Personalities and egos, those you’d think would be put aside during times of crisis, would clash; lingering, festering wounds being left in their wake while your so-called “friends”, those you once held in such high regard, plotted against you simply for the sake of living a few more measly days.

Washington had exhibited all of these traits and more, back during the initial phase of the outbreak. People too stupid or short-sighted to help each other out and panicking about even the most mundane of tasks, and so completely scared of what was lurking outside their door that all rational thought had been replaced with a primal instinct of fight or flight. It was strange back then, how almost overnight we’d gone from being a semi-peaceful society to total anarchy, with people seemingly having a switch flipped in their heads about just how many terrible notions they’d been holding back for so long.

 _Fuck. That Reginald guy probably would’ve gotten a kick out of it all,_ I thought to myself with a frown, turning my attention back to the task that Carlos had placed me on. Oh, the wonderful world of sorting through old pill bottles! How frigging marvelous. I could easily admit that when it came to medical matters, I really didn’t have much skill beyond clumsily cleaning and dressing up a wound before wrapping a tensor band around it for good measure, but I was almost insulted at how little faith this guy seemed to have in me. Could he have given me anything more boring than sticking my hands through a cardboard box and alphabetically sorting shit? C’mon, dude!

“…did you find the Vicodin yet?”

…god dammit. Which one was that again? Was that in the bottle with the little, red, polka-dotted thingies? Or did that have a red cross on the front?

He must’ve noticed that I had no idea what he was talking about, since he shut his eyes tiredly and scribbled out something on the clipboard he was holding. “It’s in a see-through, orange bottle – the label’s probably still on it,” he instructed with a sigh. “Keep looking. We have to get this done by nightfall.”

My ears perked up at that, and as I stared back at the Hispanic doctor with a raised eyebrow, he shrugged his shoulders and started going about organizing the handful of clean syringes that they had on hand. I’d told Carlos right when I arrived about what was inevitably coming to hit the college campus, so he had to know that all of this infirmary crap was going to be a waste of time by tomorrow.

But he hadn’t really said much to that, only nodding solemnly and going back to his routine. “Helps me keep some semblance of normalcy,” is the answer he posed to me when I pressed him further about why he was even bothering with this, and aside from the little spoken word here and there about how much I was clearly fucking up the assortment of these pill bottles, we hadn’t spoken at all this afternoon.

The only sounds I’d hear from him were the scratching of a pen across his sheet of paper, and an almost whimper-like sigh that he’d shake himself out of when he’d catch me staring.

I never knew this guy’s daughter. I wasn’t around when “it” happened. But from what I could gather, through the brief amount of sleuthing I was able to pull off, was that it hadn’t ended well for the girl. Getting eaten alive by walkers was a bad way to go, and I didn’t need to know the physical pain firsthand to understand the kind of trauma she must’ve been under.

Luke had mentioned to me a while back that Carlos was extremely overprotective of Sarah, and that simply hearing about it from him wouldn’t do the situation justice. From the few details I could gather, a bunch of them had been living in this cabin out in the woods, and while the majority of their group were fairly capable and could handle a couple walkers if pressed, the doctor had basically shut away his kid from pretty much everything. No going outside without express permission, no wandering around the cabin without a chaperone, and certainly no guns or weapons of any kind. Just a handful of books, some board games that they’d managed to scrape together, and the cheerful company of the cabin group.

I hated to say it, but it was hardly a wonder to me that Sarah had died. In fact, it was kind of shocking that the girl had even lasted as long as she did, what with Carlos basically teaching her to fear every single thing beyond their closeted, clandestine abode.

 _Just… careful what ya say around the guy,_ Luke had warned me one evening, after the both of us had witnessed a particularly nasty blow-up between Carlos and one of the guards. Carlos had been docked dinner that night, not that they’d been feeding us any substantial meals. _Don’t talk to him about Howe’s, or the cabin. Or kids in general. Sarah is obviously off limits… Oh, and, uh… best not to mention Clementine. Like, at all._

We’d been interrupted before I could prod him further on that, but as much as I was trying to walk straight ahead on the thin row of eggshells that it was with Carlos, that question had been itching in the front of my mind. I found myself staring at the man when he was too busy being caught up in his own distracted daze, trying to force an answer out of his brain through sheer willpower alone, but I bit my tongue. I generally sucked at _not_ sounding like a jackass whenever I turned my interrogation tactics on, and with the utter amount of brooding that the guy was exhibiting in his little corner, there was no way I’d be able to get any useful information. Hell, Kenny got a bloody nose from even the mention of his daughter; I couldn’t imagine what digging for details would entail for me.

Rolling up my sleeves, I chose to keep myself occupied with sorting the prescriptions even though my head was running a mile a minute. Many different, confusing names stared back at me, half of which I was sure I’d butcher completely if I tried to pronounce them. Some of the bottles were still vacuum-sealed after all this time, while others had maybe two or three pills maximum still jingling about inside. Bill hadn’t been kidding about the meds this morning, and despite my earlier insistence about travelling light and only grabbing the essentials, it kinda felt like a shame just to leave all of these behind, even if I didn’t know what purpose they served. If there were any painkillers around, or antibiotics or some other good shit left in here, they could’ve very well been some of the most valuable items left in the country. And who knew what kind of injuries one of us could sustain out there? A billion things could go wrong.

If nothing else, maybe we could’ve traded some of the stuff to another group of survivors, much like Bill had agreed to earlier with the Disciples. Well, hopefully a more stable-minded and friendly group of scavengers, which I wasn’t really betting my chips on. Still, one could dream.

I’d been placing some of the pill bottles alphabetically on a stand beside the counter when my eyes caught the sight of a thin packet, stuck in one of the flaps of the cardboard box. Three layers of white pills stared back at me, with a green row on the bottom as I felt the plastic material crinkle beneath my fingers. The thought of me having to take these after the things that animal had made me do still crushed my spirit, but there was absolutely no way in hell that I was about to get pregnant, much less even consider being the mother of Troy’s fucking kids. _Bleagh!_

In case it hadn’t been plainly obvious by this point, I wasn’t the biggest fan of babies. They were hungry, shitting noise machines that woke up everybody in the house at the worst possible times, and that was before all of this crap happened.

Now? Out here? It wasn’t that I was completely ignorant of _why_ Rebecca and Alvin (if he truly was the father as they claimed) would want to have a kid out here, to raise a family and grab a hold onto some sort of a life for themselves. They were married, after all, and wanted the post-apocalyptic American dream: house, kids, a walker-free front lawn, all that.

But there was no way in hell that I’d ever subject myself to that kind of a future. Babies, to me at least, created more problems than necessary, and weren’t worth the effort of caring for when so many capable, fully-grown people were struggling as it was for themselves. It wasn’t like they could defend themselves, or feed themselves or walk or even fucking wipe their own asses, for Christ’s sake. 

The last thing I needed was to burden myself unnecessarily when I knew, deep down, that it’d kill me. That might’ve seemed callous and cruel, but I’d discovered early on that sometimes, in order to keep yourself alive, it meant voicing some opinions that others might hate you for, and making decisions that’d leave you with a lot of sleepless nights.

Not wanting to venture down that particular rabbit hole yet again, I traced my fingertip over the label of the pill packet and squinted to read over some of the instructions. They weren’t particularly legible, but if the row of seven across the board was anything to go by, I’d assumed that popping one of these a day would probably do the trick.

Noting that the scribbling sound had stopped a little while ago, I ever-so-slowly dared to peep up, only to find a wide-eyed Carlos staring at me and the packet as if I’d just been caught robbing a bank. My throat was going dry over the exchange, and even though I didn’t explicitly say to anybody that I was unwillingly having sex with Troy, it couldn’t have been very difficult for Carlos, a PhD-certified physician, to figure that out.

“…that whole _doctor-patient confidentiality_ thing wasn’t just a sham, was it?” I tried breaking the ice, only seeming to make things worse when Carlos gulped and turned his head to look out the window. Sighing as he closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, I thought the man was about to give me a lecture when he instead turned back and gently snatched the packet out of my hands. He gave it a read-through a couple of times before shaking his head.

“It’s expired,” he said, surprising me with the info that these things actually _could_ expire. “Five years ago, actually. It might still have the estrogen and progesterone necessary, but I wouldn’t count on it. Too risky.”

I watched him take over my duties for a bit, scrambling through the box and pushing aside various bottles until he found another similar-looking package buried just beneath everything else. Checking it over again, he handed me the plastic (which was only a few years old) and gave what possibly could’ve been the briefest doctor’s instruction of all time. I got the gist of it, and I wasn’t too far off of my initial assumption with the pill-a-day scenario, but keeping it to a consistent timetable might’ve proved a little difficult. With so much going on and, with what was soon to occur within the next couple of days, sticking to a schedule like that almost seemed impossible.

But, I told myself with a grunt as I quickly placed them in my pocket, I’d damn well give it a try. No way on earth was I willing to bear children. Absolutely, posi-fucking-tively not.

I’d almost rather hang myself than to try and go through the process of “motherhood”, despite that being on the extreme end of the spectrum. _Yuck._ Even the name itself gave me hives.

“…think we could maybe just, uhh… keep this between us?” I stuttered, wringing my hands together nervously and scraping my teeth upon the lower, inside part of my lip. “Please… don’t tell anyone. _Anyone_. Especially not…-“

I don’t even know why those last few words left my mouth. Especially not… him? _Really?_ God, I wasn’t even doing anything with the guy, let alone actually spending more than like ten minutes a day with him on average! So why the hell was I so damn nervous about the farm boy finding out about me taking birth control pills? My body, my rules – I shouldn’t have given a bull’s left nut about what anybody thought about me.

And yet… for some reason…

Carlos seemed to ponder this for a while, debating on whether or not he’d actually follow through with my brazen request, before turning back to me with a solemn look. “Only if you do something for me in return,” he proposed, causing me to roll my eyes when he turned back towards the medicine cabinet. Figures. There always had to be a catch with everything these days, and nobody could just do things out of the goodness of their –

“Take it,” Carlos interrupted my thoughts, holding out a thin stick-looking thing towards me with an impatient hand. Taking it out of his grasp, Carlos awaited my reaction as I read over the label with increasing dread, particularly when I saw the image of a “plus” sign on the outside of the packaging.

Indignant, I frowned deeply and immediately made a move to return the stupid thing to him. “Not in a million years.”

“We have to be sure.”

“I’m not fucking taking a pregnancy test! There’s no need! I’m… I’m not pregnant, damn it!” I shuddered, voice cracking as Carlos leaned his hands against the counter. “I’m _not._ ”

“Then there shouldn’t be an issue in proving it to me,” he countered, gaze softening when I tightly clenched the plastic device. “Look… I don’t want to force something like this on you. But I’m honestly only trying to help your situation. It’s just a precaution. Besides,” the doctor continued, “I think it would set both of our minds more at ease if we knew for certain.”

My breathing was becoming more sporadic the longer that I stared at the test, shaking with each passing second in my grasp. This was all happening way too quickly and at way too inconvenient a time. Pregnancy scares hadn’t been in the cards when I arrived a few weeks ago, but then again, neither had half of the things that had gone down within these walls that I’d quickly grown to loathe. It was all a whirlwind, swirling this way and that around my head to the point that I felt my legs start to unintentionally give out.

Quickly pulling out a chair that I promptly sat down in, Carlos, in full-on physician mode at this point, bent down in front of me and closed my test-clutching fist. I didn’t bother trying to deny his insistence this time.

“Just take a moment to breathe, get your bearings,” he instructed in a tone that I could tell he’d used many a time. Screwing my eyes shut with as much force as I could muster, I managed to give Carlos a tiny nod and started tearing the plastic wrapping open.

“So…” I trailed off, opening my eyes once again. “what, uhh… what happens if I find a result that I… don’t like?”

“…then we deal with it. Regardless of the outcome, it’s ultimately your decision. How we’ll proceed is entirely up to you,” he insinuated, unflinching to the prospect that he knew I was referring to. He’s probably dealt with this situation a thousand times before.

Lightheaded and growing weary of this conversation, I quickly popped one of the pills and ignored his questioning stare as I made to stand.

“You really should be taking it easy, Jane.”

“Sorry, doc. Kind’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment.”

“Which is exactly why you should be taking this slowly,” he advised, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair and insisting that I sit back down. When he seemed to realize I was doing nothing of the sort, I heard him sigh through his nose and return to his usual spot behind the counter. “Just let me know when you’re finished. We still have a lot of work to do.”

Gripping the door handle and grunting to myself about how the man could suddenly be “all-business” so shortly after our candid conversation, I stopped and released the handle before reflecting on how I was behaving at the moment. Carlos could’ve turned around and completely ignored me; could’ve simply rolled his eyes and forgotten that I’d even existed… but he didn’t. He helped. He was trying to make my sticky situation a little less… sticky, I guessed.

The pregnancy test, although it frankly scared the crap out of me, wasn’t an attack, but an olive branch. I’d barely even talked to the man before we were forced to work together this afternoon, and so far all I’d done was judge and attack him for something that wasn’t even his fault to start with.

 I was being a total brat.

“Hey, Carlos?” I found myself whispering, surprised that he was able to hear me at all with how skittish I sounded. Clearing my throat, I stared down at the floor when the words came to me. “Just, umm… well… thanks.”

His expression remained largely the same – that distracted, pained look he’d been wearing that might as well have been permanently etched onto his exhausted mug. “Bathroom’s out in the hallway, to the left,” he simply replied, hurrying back to his scribbles as I nodded and left the room without another word.

The bathroom in question was a tiny, unfurnished thing that had several of the floor tiles missing or broken, and a ratty, old curtain on the open window that flapped in the breeze. There was no mirror, a sink that looked as though it’d churned out rust when water was actually readily available, and the toilet seat bounced nosily when I sat down upon it. I didn’t give a shit about the whole decorating scheme, though, and hastily ripped the packaging open before setting it all up.

I was pretty sure I’d straight-up murder Troy if this displayed an answer that I wasn’t fond of, and I held no tone of exaggeration there. The remnants of cold, calloused fingers on my neck and shoulders from that son of a bitch still shook me to my foundations, and the memories of seeing the guy thrust himself upon me still haunted my subconscious every time I tried to close my eyes. Just the thought of going through childbirth was enough to make me consider downing a bottle of cyanide, not to mention the idea of Troy standing over me with that stupid, fucking smirk on his lips, glowering down and chastising me for even letting this happen in the first place.

Groaning, I made sure to keep the test in place before lightly banging the back of my skull against the wall in time with my words. “Fuck. This. Shit. Just. Let. Me. Die.”

As soon as that last part escaped my lips, however, I practically wanted somebody to come over here and give my head a good shake. The fuck was I saying… I wanted to die now all of a sudden? Really? Whether it was just a stupid expression or not, the whole notion of it was left in extremely poor taste. Moving on, regardless of whatever might’ve happened to me, was the only priority I’d ever made since… -

 _Fuck…_ Jaime…

“Why’d you give up on me…” I hoarsely whispered, struggling to keep the pent-up emotions from overtaking my senses. I thought I was past this. “Why didn’t you get it? I needed you, damn it all! I… I _still_ do! You really think I can do this shit on my own?!”

But as I lightly banged my fist onto the sink, praying to whoever was actually listening for me to be completely fetus-free, I started second-guessing myself for about the twentieth time that day. Sure, my sister hadn’t wanted to go through the day-to-day life of running, camping out in the woods and struggling to keep each other alive, and that in retrospect I really wasn’t doing the girl any favours by forcing her to try and tough it out with no clear objective in sight. But I, despite wanting to keep the last person I actually loved alive for as long as possible, was just as responsible for her death as she was. Perhaps, in the end, _I_ was the one was the one who gave up, and that all my instincts and feelings towards certain people being a liability I couldn’t afford… were what really killed her on that roof.

I’d tried to bury any and all regrets of that day along with my conscious, which constantly reminded me of what a shitty sister I’d ended up becoming. But the longer that I’d tried to stow those feelings away, the more frequently they’d spring back to the surface. Mom and Dad would’ve been so fucking ashamed of me, not that we’d ever seen them again after the walkers started eating people. I’d always had it drilled into my head as a child how, as a big sister, I was supposed to look after her when they weren’t around, to set a good example since Jaime would likely look up to me for guidance. And in a way, they were right – countless summer afternoons were spent in our little backyard, with Jaime having to practically drag me by the hand so that I’d actually participate in all the crazy adventures she’d concoct in that imaginative, little brain of hers. She’d often ask me questions such as what middle school was like, where to find the best skipping stones by the creek where we lived, and, once we were much older, how many tequila shots on average did I think it would take before she got put on her ass.

Oftentimes I was distant with her, more inclined to saunter off and do my own thing rather than try to answer the bazillion inquiries coming from the girl. But now? Here, with me sitting on a toilet seat, trapped in a prison camp that was sitting on a goldmine of walkers, worrying about whether a cap-sporting child had been killed in all the confusion of earlier this morning, all on top of waiting for a pregnancy test to which I hadn’t yet prepared myself mentally for the outcome? I would’ve given anything, absolutely _anything_ , for her to be with me right now; squeezing my hand and telling me that everything was going to be okay. The bright, hopeful spark of a personality she’d once held that I used to find annoying would’ve been an absolute godsend.

“…just stay with me here, alright? I need you in my corner for this one,” I said, figuring that it had been more than enough time for the test to have been completed. Huffing out three straight puffs of air in a row in nervous anticipation, I bit the bullet and quickly yanked it out; staring at the sign as I sank back against the wall and chuckled in relief.

Negative, thank fuck. The very least trauma-inducing outcome I could’ve hoped for, and yet, the one that I’d had almost zero faith that it would actually come to pass. All of the signs were pointing me in the complete opposite direction.

Maybe, however agonizingly slowly it might’ve been, my luck was finally starting to turn around.

“…thanks, sis,” I breathed, placing a hand on my leg and feeling content enough to just sit in the solitude of the bathroom for a few more minutes.

 

* * *

“Soup’s on.”

The smell of my meal was the first thing to hit me when the goop was ladled onto my plate. Cold leftovers, _again_. And not the good kind, no – it wasn’t like the refrigerated pasta that I used to sneak the day after when Mom wasn’t looking. The food was… well, to be honest, I had no idea what it was. It didn’t look remotely edible, and even though admittedly it could’ve just been my imagination, I could’ve sworn that something had started to sprout and grow within the red slab of mush. Something green. And still alive, no doubt.

Not bothering to hide my disgust, I slowly glanced up at the cook and watched him shrug me off.

“Don’t ask me what it is. That’d only make it worse,” he explained, rearranging the utensils in his bucket and rearranging a larger plastic case in his hand. Noticing me eyeing the contents, he shook the container a little bit and made a move to wander off. “Right then. Duty calls.”

“Forcing some other poor bastard to suffer through that slop?”

“Bitch about it all you want, but a meal’s a meal. Don’t like it? Then don’t eat.”

“With pleasure,” I murmured under my breath, having half a mind to toss the substance out of a nearby window and into the thorn bushes. A generous gift for the birds tomorrow, I thought to myself, though in the state that garbage was in I’d have even been surprised if they’d choose to dine on it. “Might as well use that crap for compost, if nothing else.”

Most cooks probably would’ve been insulted that I’d just ripped their handiwork to shreds, but this guy most likely had just been assigned to this role recently, without an ounce of experience to his name. He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re probably right on that count, seeing’s how those folks in the gym’ll definitely whine about it too.”

My ears perked up a bit at that, seeing an opportunity to actually get some more info on this escape plan that sure as hell was as undercooked as the food at the moment. Stopping him in his tracks, I tapped the man (I thought his name was… Trent? Steve? I couldn’t remember…) on the shoulder before he could head out into the night. “I can take that off your hands if you want.”

“Mmf…” he mumbled before fiddling with the door handle and letting the cool evening air wash over us both. “Think I can manage it just fine, thanks. Unless of course you just want a second helping of my gourmet culinary skills.”

“Heh. Yeah, that’s it,” I played along, but unwilling to give up on my offer while also trying to keep it as unenthusiastic as possible to avoid drawing suspicion. It might’ve been a little worrisome that I’d been finding myself lying to people’s faces with ease lately, but I doubted that it would matter with this guy. He clearly didn’t know me, or what my relation to Clementine’s friends was. “Seriously though, I’ve got nothing else to do tonight and I’m super bored. Figured the least I could do is pitch in a little.”

Giving me a once-over, the cook shrugged and agreed; passing me the supplies and dusting his hands off on his jeans. “Alright then. Knock yourself out. Saves me the trip,” he remarked. “Gym’s over that way, and I’ve got some plates and cutlery in that bucket. Make sure you at least offer it to everyone in there, even if they throw it back in your face. Just leave it there when you’re done – pretty sure Russell’s got cleanup duty tonight.” The man twisted the toe of his boot in the dirt and gingerly took off his apron. “…and be sure to get some sleep tonight, alright? You must’ve heard by now, but there’s some screwy people living right below our feet apparently. Bill’s got a plan to clear them on out of their holes, but we’d all best be ready for tomorrow.”

“Sure wouldn’t wanna miss that,” I sarcastically replied out of earshot, heading away from the old residence buildings before he could change his mind about the food.

 

* * *

Preparations for the coming conflict seemed to be well underway tonight. They’d likely been told to keep it quiet and make it looking like it was all business as usual in case they were being watched, but I doubted that it would make much of a difference. According to the kid’s note in my pocket, we were probably all fucked regardless, seeing’s how Reginald too was shaking up his own plan to murder or enslave everything that so much as blinked. Happy times, indeed.

I got the gist of some of the workers’ activities aboveground, what with many of them lining up vehicles close to the subway tunnel entrances to block off any choke points around campus. And while they didn’t have any sandbags to try and pad the walls with, other people were making do with random stuff from the dormitories: pillows, ratty, old mattresses, cardboard and an array of other knickknacks. Some were carrying boxes (most of which I presumed were empty) to make it look like we were still bargaining fairly with the cult, and more still were just walking about, worried out of their minds about being dragged into yet another struggle.

There’d been a couple of people who asked if I could help them set up some traps, which they’d explained would be used to either kill a handful of cultists or force them to bottleneck into the main plaza, but I simply held up the food packages and declined. Wasting my time and energy on anything but getting to the girl downstairs wasn’t high on the priorities list, especially since I’d been getting more nervous by the day that I’d just end up finding her dead in the rusted, iron deathtrap Carver had forced her into.

God… _Clementine_ … I was afraid that my window was closing quickly when it came to finding the girl, and I couldn’t help but feel that every minute I spent up here was another that I’d been abandoning her. Sure, I’d been dealt a pretty shitty hand today from Carver, the pregnancy scare and the “Disciples” or whatever they called themselves, but nothing could erase the image of her from my mind; shaking uncontrollably, eyes seeming as though she was a thousand miles away, and all the while being a practical skeleton with her spirit having nearly been completely fizzled out. I’d seen that exact face before on my sister far, far too many times, and frankly, that’s what frightened me the most. Seeing another young girl who looked as though she was barely clinging onto life was… difficult to watch.

I knew that I had to try getting to her at least, since there was so much at stake and far too much unnecessary bullshit paddled through to just give up before I finished. I owed Clem that much. But waiting on the sidelines like this instead of being able to just wander over and see for myself just made it seem all the more hopeless.

I just had to hope that she could wait it out one more night. Hell, I guess that could’ve gone for us, too.

My feet had led me to the gymnasium almost instinctually while I was lost in my own head, and I sighed in relief when I glanced upon a familiar face. Mike happened to be standing watch outside of the door upon my arrival, thankfully, and didn’t give me any trouble over my food delivery except for a warning to try and keep the visit short inside. I felt kinda guilty towards the man, since apparently Tavia chewed him out for letting me pass through to the Pit last week. He didn’t seem to hold any ill will towards me, but if nothing else, I could at least go one more night without getting him into shit.

Taking a deep breath, I waited for him to open the door and walked on through. “Knock-knock,” I quietly announced, gauging the reactions of everyone and suddenly starting to wish that I’d just handed off the grub and bolted.

Most of them looked pretty surprised to see me there, and nobody really knew what to say as I placed their dinner on a nearby table. Sure, I’d seen Carlos earlier today, but I hadn’t really spoken with anybody else since my hotel room at NCS had been upgraded to a master suite, as it were. Not exactly a five-star by any stretch, but compared to this dump, it probably looked like I was living in the lap of luxury. If only they knew the physical and mental toll it took to earn that spot.

Luke was the first to break out of the trance and approach me (because with my luck, _of course_ he fucking was) and gulped before speaking to me. “I reckoned we wouldn’t see you again ‘til tomorrow,” he told me. Stacking the plates across the table, I began dumping generous cuts of the worst feast any of them had likely ever received.

Christ, would I ever _not_ be sick of that smell?

“Disappointed, huh?” I tried to quip, but when I didn’t hear him try to say something snarky back, I turned my head to see that he wasn’t in his usual carefree mood. “What’s wrong?”

Luke’s voice was heavy with uncertainty. “It’s complicated,” he trailed, itching at his scalp and frowning. I heard Nick let out a humourless chuckle from his bed, consisting of nothing but a wooden baseboard for some measly back support.

“He means we’re about to be knee-deep in shit creek by tomorrow night.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “That ain’t exactly the way I’d have put it,” he remarked, “but… he’s kinda got a point. The plan’s a no-go, at least with how it was before.”

Looking around for somebody to elaborate, Rebecca came forward and obliged. “I’m guessing Bill told you about this whole “cult” business?” At my nod, she continued. “Well… we figured that he’d just send all of us out onto the front lines so that the rest of his people wouldn’t get hurt, but he’s got us all split up now.”

“Split up?”

“Yeah. He sectioned us all off to completely different parts of the campus – me n’ Kenny, Alvin n’ Nick, Rebecca n’ Carlos,” Luke said. “We were countin’ on just waitin’ until things got heated enough to make a break for it and grab Clem and AJ, but it’s gonna be a hell of a lot harder with us all over the place.”

He was right. Without everyone being in a centralized location, and with no sure-fire way to safely communicate, there wouldn’t be much hope for an escape through the tunnels to go smoothly. Sure, I’d been down there twice now and knew a little of the general layout, but with all the different sections and intricacies of the subway system, it was practically impossible to figure it out off the top of my head.

“…I still don’t get it though,” I heard Nick mention as I shook myself back into the conversation. “Why’d Bill change his mind on a dime like that? I mean, wouldn’t he figure that we’d just run off the second everythin’ goes to hell?”

Gulping, I looked down at my boots and bit my lip. _Shit..._ I knew exactly why Carver would’ve shifted everyone around – yours truly, and her big fucking mouth. The guy might’ve already been on red alert already with these guys considering their track record with getting the fuck outta dodge, but I’m pretty sure it was my stumble of an explanation that may’ve gone the extra mile.

Not going to completely divulge this info and try to steer the topic in another dimension, I stopped myself when somebody else beat me to it.

“It ain’t gonna matter none, regardless.”

Kenny was hunched over some kind of crinkled paper of some kind, mulling it over with Alvin towering beside him. At everyone’s questioning looks, he went on. “We’re too spread out to wait for each other to cross the campus. With all the fightin’ and whatnot, we wouldn’t get far. But that doesn’t mean the plan has to change. Just might not be all of us headin’ out at once.”

Seeing’s how Kenny pretty much lost most of the room, Alvin chimed in. “If we time it right, we can spread out into teams and go for the exits that’re closest to us. Becs, I’m closest to AJ, so Nick and I’ll break into Carver’s office and grab him from there,” he insisted, noticing his wife’s worried face. He walked over and held her hand, kissing her knuckles tenderly. “I won’t let him take our son, alright? Not again.”

“…alright,” she sighed, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Just be careful. I need both of my boys back. No matter what.”

Smiling warmly at the pair, Luke turned back towards the food before arching his eyebrow at me; a silent question of _“Really?”_ I simply shrugged in response and covered the nasty-looking grub back inside of the plastic container. No way was anybody gonna be feeling hungry with this tonight.

“What if he’s not there?”

Everyone turned towards Carlos at that, surprised that he’d actually managed to drag himself out of isolation for the time being. Apparently, though, he’d chosen to play devil’s advocate tonight.

“Nobody’s seen him since yesterday, right? There’s a high chance that Carver might’ve relocated the boy in case something like this were to happen,” he continued, cringing a bit at the parents’ glowers. “Look, I’m not trying to put a damper on things, but we have to prepare for every possibility. Carver’s not an idiot – he’d have put in some kind of security measure when it comes to your child.”

Sighing, Kenny nodded and folded his arms together. “Doc’s got a point there. He might’ve moved Clem outta the Pit by now, too.” I tried my absolute best to ignore the deep frown that Carlos developed when he mentioned the girl’s name, but lucky for him that Kenny didn’t happen to see it. “Damn it all… This is exactly why we should’ve been on this days ago! We’re fumblin’ around in the dark when we could’ve been halfway to Wellington by now!”

A handful of groans were thrown back at him, which he was absolutely _not_ having, but Luke intervened quickly to try and keep the peace among the squabbling group.

“Alright, enough already! Listen, y’all, if we’re still serious about getting’ this done tomorrow, then we’d best look over the map again and find a place to meet up.”

“As long as it don’t end up like last time,” Nick quipped, shutting his mouth instantly when he noticed Kenny standing right beside him. “Ah, shit… Hey, man… I’m so – “

“Let’s just figure this out,” the old fisherman interjected, waiting until everyone had gathered around to start laying out ideas.

It took just over an hour for us to finally settle on a plan that was generally accepted by the group. Luke figured that, combined with Alvin’s knowledge of that cultist map he spied a few days ago, our safest bet would be to head out east and keep to the side roads until we could hit up Interstate 87. I tried to mention that trying to get through downtown Raleigh had been extremely risky even with Reginald keeping his walkers on a tight leash, but seeing’s how nobody was familiar enough with the areas outside the city to safely travel them, I was overruled.

The subway tunnel, while indeed stretching out in multiple directions, could also be traced out to a centralized hub a couple miles east into the city, also known as Raleigh Union Station. It was unanimously agreed though that the place would be a little too obvious for a meetup spot, so after some internal debate, Nick had gotten us to agree on a local diner called Jose and Sons Bar and Kitchen. The place would be a temporary safe haven at best with all the shit that was going down, so while there was no guarantee of us meeting there at the same time, we couldn’t prolong our stay for more than a couple of days.

From there, it was simply a matter of deciding whether to stick to the highway and take the long way around, or chumming it up with the locals and passing through different neighbourhoods to get to 87.

“Alright… this could work. Yeah… yeah, we can roll with this for the time being,” Kenny affirmed before furrowing his brow. “Still need to find a way to get to the kids, though. Can’t just be strollin’ around the place like a bunch of headless chickens, and besides, those asshole guards’ll be watchin’ us like a hawk.”

In an almost comical way, nearly all the heads in the room started to turn towards me as I widened my eyes. I wasn’t a big fan of all the sudden attention.

“We need you on this one, Jane,” Luke insisted, getting a nod from Nick. The farm boy gently placed his hand on my arm in a show of support, and although the contact was definitely not as nauseating as certain other assholes had been as of late, I still flinched a little under his touch. Sensing my discomfort, he backed off a bit. “Think you could maybe scope out some of them buildings tomorrow? I know this campus is big n’ all, but I reckon Bill would’ve kept ‘em relatively close to him just in case.”

“Uh… y-yeah, sure,” I answered quietly, hoping that that would be the end of it. “If Clem’s still in that walker pit, it’ll definitely still be on lockdown, but I’ll keep an eye out. I’ve got a few ideas of where to start looking, anyways.”

“Thanks. Whatever you can find out’ll go a long way tomorrow night,” he smiled at me, to which Rebecca also chimed in and patted me warmly on the shoulder.

Kenny looked like he wanted to say something directly to me, probably to mouth me off in some way, but just sighed and shook his head when Alvin suggested that everybody try to get some rest for tomorrow. I could tell the fisherman didn’t trust me, and I was still holding onto the faintest glimmer of hope that Carlos didn’t mention anything about Troy or the shit that went down in the infirmary, but other than those two, I wasn’t completely sure where I stood with the rest of this crew.

Not that it really mattered, regardless. I hadn’t mentioned this to any of them, but I was seriously considering breaking off with this colourful cast of characters once I found Clementine and got out of this shit stain of a school. Things had been going relatively easier for me with a maximum of two or three people whom I knew wouldn’t just end up slowing me down, and so far, this trip hadn’t exactly swayed me in that belief. I was smart enough to be able to make it on my own, and every instinct I possessed was screaming at me to high-tail it the fuck out of here once we’d gotten to Interstate 87. Where I’d go from there was a bit of a mystery, but somehow I’d find a way. I always did.

First things first, though. Getting the girl away from the monsters surrounding her – living and dead – was the absolute top priority, along with escaping with my head still attached, of course. Everything and every _one_ else came second, if at all, despite what the group had decided upon.

While the majority of their crew went to bed (without their dinner, which I was _oh so_ insulted about), something else had clicked inside my mind. I walked over to Nick and Luke, who were talking quietly amongst themselves.

“Forgot to mention this,” I told them, handing them the note I’d been given down in the subway system earlier this morning.

Nick looked skeptical. “What is it?”

“Well, unless you can absorb information telepathically through the paper, I’d suggest you open it to find out.”

“Alright, alright… Jesus… Rough day at the office or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” I deadpanned, “something like that.”

Chuckling and shaking his head, Luke unfolded it only to grow concerned a few moments later. “ _Don’t believe the promises Reginald makes. Our leader’s got a plan that’ll wipe you all out,_ ” he read aloud, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. “Well… at least it ain’t cryptic nonsense this time, but that doesn’t exactly give me a whole lot of confidence for everythin’.”

“No kiddin’,” Nick agreed, turning to me. “Who the hell gave this to you, anyways?”

“It’s a kid – name’s Andre, I think. He’s the same guy I saw following us a few days ago.”

“Huh. Now that’s reassuring.”

“Nick…” Luke shushed him, focusing back on topic. “This kid, you think you can trust him? ‘Cause I’m not really sure if this note ain’t just a scare tactic or a cry for help, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Mulling it over for a second, I shrugged. “Could just be more mind games they’re playing, but I’m not sure we can take that chance. They literally didn’t have a gun to their name, and Carver still nearly shit himself this morning when we saw them down there.”

“Heh. I’d have paid good money to see that asshole taken down a peg or two,” Nick remarked; a sentiment I was pretty sure we all shared.

Glancing over the note again as though to make sure he didn’t miss anything, Luke solemnly handed it back over.

“Dude, you sure you’re alright? You look worse than I do,” Nick joked, giving his wounded leg a bit of a shake for emphasis. Luke cracked a small grin at that, but it certainly didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well, Nick, if it’s comin’ from your ugly mug, I guess I really should be worried about it, then,” he jibed, quickly dodging a friendly blow to his side and chuckling for real this time. The man certainly knew how to keep himself entertained, I’d give him that – even if the situation didn’t seem to call for it in the slightest. I had to admit, though, it was kind of reassuring in a way to see him maintain his more lighthearted personality. The guy didn’t seem right without it. “Guess that’s it then, huh?” he turned back to me once the two boys had stopped roughhousing. “I don’t suppose your stalker friend there happened to give you any directions to the nearest secret passageway while you were down there too, did he?”

“If they had a yellow brick road somewhere downstairs, the kid certainly didn’t feel like sharing it with me,” I told him, finding myself indulging in some of the sarcasm these two thrived in. Before too long, however, I grew serious once again. “Listen, just because I said they don’t have guns doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous. They’re doing something with the walkers that… tames them, I guess.”

“ _Tames_ them?”

“Yeah. Their leader had a bunch of them just sitting around in cages without them even trying to bite anybody. What’s scarier though is that he was thanking Carver for feeding the ones he’s got in the Pit,” I explained, watching Nick’s face start to become paler with each passing word.

“Fuck me…” he uttered, placing a hand over his face in disbelief. “It just… I don’t get it. The fuck would that guy want with an army of walkers? What’s he plannin’ on doin’ with ‘em?”

I didn’t have a plausible answer for the guy, despite all of us clearly wanting to know what the hell was going on around here. Although, given the circumstances surrounding the douchebags up top and down below, it wasn’t difficult to imagine that whatever was going to happen tomorrow night wouldn’t be worth sticking around for.

A few beats of silence passed before I noticed Kenny staring at us from his perch on the bleachers, until Luke finally broke the ice. “Hopefully we’ll be on our way out before any of that goes down. Ain’t no use in stewin’ over those creeps,” he advised, despite not appearing to be following his own advice. “I’ll let the rest of ‘em know about what you saw in the mornin’. Until then, we should probably get some shuteye. Long day tomorrow.”

Knowing that if I focused on this for any longer my head would probably explode, I made sure to tell Luke that I’d mention the plan to Mike and Bonnie anyways before rubbing my eyes and starting to head back towards the dorms.

“…Jane?”

Turning around once again, I saw Luke fidgeting with his hands before sighing and sending a determined glance my way.

“I know I had my doubts earlier… but we’re gonna get ‘em back,” he told me. “Clem n’ AJ. Ain’t no way we’re lettin’ another couple of kids die. Not again.”

 _There’s never a guarantee of that,_ I was bitterly reminded, shutting my eyes for a second and temporarily letting the memories of all I’d seen – Jaime and countless others – flood back in. _It doesn’t matter how much you wish it wasn’t true. This world wasn’t made for kids. It wasn’t made for happiness, or love, or any of that shit. All it’ll do is tear you apart from the people you care about. Nothing else._

Releasing a shaky breath, I shook my head. “See you tomorrow,” I simply replied, knowing fully well that a disappointed grimace trailed the back of my head from a man whose outlook was a hell of a lot different from mine.

 

* * *

The next morning came and went pretty quickly, and the afternoon was closing just the same, but I could tell that literally every single living person aboveground at NCS was on the edge. The usual buzz of workers that could be heard on an average day was replaced with a thick air of tension, and almost every time that I walked by some of the residents, I was met with a start. It was almost as though the Disciples had already arrived and were knocking on the door.

Most people had, whether it was a subconscious choice or not, elected to stick around some of the entrances to various buildings or emergency exits in the event that they had to hide for some reason. A particularly religious trio of survivors were huddled together and praying, although I couldn’t make out what they were mumbling to each other. It was a weird sight to see, with so many fully-grown adults trembling in fear over the boogeymen under their beds, finally crawling out from the darkness to snatch them in the middle of the night. Only this time, it was no ghost story. It was genuine. It was real.

Part of the problem, I thought, was that they had no real idea what they were actually up against. The gist of Carver’s speech yesterday apparently was that there were some nutjobs coming to try and collect on a deal that would send them packing, that we all had to put a stop to them before they decided to try and fight back, and that if we did this, not only would we not have to give up any of our meds, but he promised to personally lead a team to head into their living area and take whatever useful things they could find.

That all probably would’ve sounded like a good thing to the people living here, but aside from a brief description amounting to “a bunch of bald-headed fucks who didn’t have any guns to fire”, these guys really didn’t know what they were up against. Hell, _I_ still didn’t really know, and I’d literally seen all of them in the flesh.

“…kinda creepy ‘round here, ain’t it?” Bonnie commented, walking past one of the dilapidated coffee shops with me. God damn, did I wish that was still up and running.

I had to agree with the redhead on that one. “They all look… _haunted,_ somehow.”

“I never figured there’d be somethin’ scarier than lurkers out there, but I guess the world can up and bewilder you now and then.”

“At least you know how to handle walkers,” I reminded her, frowning slightly. “People are too unpredictable. Think you must’ve seen that last night.”

Whatever the woman was about to say afterwards was put to rest when I mentioned what’d happened when I left for the dorms, and so she simply stared straight ahead and followed alongside in silence.

Bonnie, to my surprise, had actually started becoming somewhat of a confidant of mine within NCS. I wasn’t really keen on dumping my problems onto other people and airing out my dirty laundry to folks I wasn’t all too familiar with, but last night… well, last night had been an exception.

The trek back to the dorms hadn’t been anything spectacular. Just a typical walk by myself. It would’ve been kind of nice on a regular evening, but my head was filled with so many bubbling thoughts and worries that I hadn’t really been paying attention to what I was doing.

Once inside the dorm hallway, I’d taken my key out of my pocket when all of a sudden, I’d heard him heading towards me – the bastard himself, Troy. Even hearing the guy’s name made me want to puke, but in that moment, there was only one thing that could’ve possibly been on his mind.

And after nearly having a heart attack that morning over the possibility of giving birth to a tiny version of that snake, I was definitely not in the mood to deal with him. If I had my way, the dude wouldn’t even have a face at this point.

But I froze when he approached me that time. I wasn’t sure if it was simply nerves, or the thought of having to live through all of that trauma again, but something punched my inherent fear of the man up to eleven right then.

 _“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ up this late? Figured it was past your bedtime,”_ he questioned, sending a sickening shiver up my spine as he got closer. I couldn’t move now if I wanted to, seeing’s how he was about four steps away from pinning me to the door. _“Works for me, I guess. No use in lettin’ a slithery bitch like you get away again. Oh, and how’s about you keep it quieter this time? I don’t want folks comin’ to snoop around just ‘cause you’re about to cry n’ shit.”_

_“You’re a fucking pig.”_

_“Pretty sure I’ve just been fucking a pig, but… hey. Beggars can’t be choosers, am I right?”_ he growled, placing a hand on the doorframe and forcing his way towards me. _“So, c’mon now, Jane. Whad’ya say? Word is, we might all die tomorrow anyways. So how’s about another round with – “_

_“Troy?”_

I turned towards the voice of the woman who’d, knowingly or not, ended up being my saviour that night. Bonnie was standing outside her own door, sporting a frown as she likely was trying to gauge what was happening. I knew that she could smell bullshit from a mile away, but my eyes were still as wide as saucers while I silently begged her to get me out of this.

Her eyes flickered between me and the monster several times before she spoke up again.

_“Somebody wanna clue me in here?”_

_“It ain’t none of your concern,”_ Troy told her, the malice in his tone telling her to back off. _“Just go on back to bed, Bonnie. Pretty sure you’ve got the early bird shift in the mornin’.”_

She stepped forward and grabbed a hold of my arm, and I wasn’t about to protest when she made a move to drag me away. _“I can handle a little sleep loss, I think. Besides, I’d already told Jane that we’d have a bit of a girl’s night,”_ she explained, looking pointedly down to me. _“Ain’t that right, Jane?”_

 _“Y…yeah…”_ I agreed, eager to be anywhere other than under Troy’s grip.

He clearly wasn’t a fan of the interference, and was about to try and grab me back, when all of a sudden, a low, rumbling voice could be heard some twenty feet behind him.

 _“There a problem down here?”_ Mike asked, having left his guard shift to another man just a little after I’d left the gym. Troy, probably knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take on the big man if he kept on going, simply glared at Mike and sighed.

 _“No problem at all,”_ he spat, giving me one last knowing look before hollering at Mike to keep it down out in the hallway.

There hadn’t been much use in trying to hide the Troy situation from Bonnie after that. I spilled the beans about the “deal” we’d made a number of nights ago, and the underlying fear that I experienced every time I came across his rat-like face. The process ended up being a lot more therapeutic than I was expecting, but it also felt like I was just digging up recent scars that were just starting to heal. I’d kept the raunchier details to myself to save the woman from having the images planted in her head, but I kept my explanations open-ended enough that she could no doubt put the pieces together.

She hadn’t really said much throughout most of my explanation, which in hindsight I appreciated, but it’d been a little terrifying telling somebody else all of these things. There hadn’t been much need for any kind of advice, since if things went according to plan (to which I wasn’t holding my breath) I wouldn’t even need to see him again.

But by the end of the night, when Bonnie had succumbed to fatigue, I’d come to a decision. It wasn’t exactly necessary for me to escape, but I kept telling myself that it potentially could get me closer to Clementine. The other reason was much more personal.

It’d have to wait, though. Rushing through this wasn’t an option. The trap had to be set carefully.

But back to the task at hand. Bonnie wasn’t just accompanying me for a walk through the town. We had a date with the infirmary, where Carlos hopefully would’ve already been taking stock of whatever medical supplies we’d need from cold storage. Carver hadn’t lied when it came to what we had available – pills, pills and more pills, enough to keep us swimming in antibiotics for months. We hadn’t planned on taking everything to avoid drawing suspicion, but just enough so that we could live comfortably for the foreseeable future.

“Any luck?” Bonnie asked the doctor when we arrived, quickly unzipping a backpack and placing everything Carlos handed to her inside. I unzipped one myself and did the same.

“Bill’s got the morphine hidden somewhere else, and there aren’t quite as many anti-inflammatories as I’d like, but other than that, I think we’ll be okay,” he explained, looking over his shoulder every few seconds out of paranoia that we might’ve been watched. “I hope you two know what you’re doing here. If either of you are caught…”

“Don’t go worryin’ ‘bout that, Carlos. You just make sure to hop on out o’ here the second you see an openin’, ya hear?”

“Telling somebody not to worry is kind of counterproductive… but fine.”

There hadn’t been much time for idle conversation after that. The sun was quickly descending, and most of the guards would be called to the atrium before too long. We said our goodbyes to Carlos, zipped up our contraband, and were on our way.

 

* * *

Bonnie and Mike, to their credit, were definitely our aces in the hole. By staying within Bad Old Bill’s good graces for as long as they had, nobody seemed to have any suspicions about their loyalty to the camp. And while they still weren’t afforded the same privileges that Troy or Tavia were given, they still had enough pull that they could get away with things Luke and his merry posse could only dream of. No daily inspections, more lenient assignment options, and perhaps most importantly, the freedom to wander about the campus when they weren’t on duty.

None of us had been able to find a trace of Clementine all day, though. We’d carefully poked around in some of the old buildings, including the more restrictive ones, and although Mike confirmed with Rebecca that AJ had been moved to a nursery overlooking the rec centre, the cap-bearer remained undetected.

I was losing my damn mind over all of this. The thought of racing down into the Pit, shoving my way past dozens if not hundreds of walkers only to find the grisly remains of the girl had become almost too much to bear, and way too possible of an outcome. The worst part was that I literally had no control over any of this shit. Survival tactics didn’t really mean much when I was stuck up on the first floor of a fucking residence building.

And so, I sat there in an empty dormitory hallway, maintaining a combination of staring aimlessly at the wall and silently chastising myself for allowing this to get as far as it had. For nearly two hours I remained like that; obsessing over the girl who’d quickly become the focus of my attention and praying that I could cash in on some kind of luck fund that would make my plan a success.

Something had to go right today. Anything at all. It just fucking had to.

Step one was already completed – I’d made sure that a handwritten note had found its way into the guy’s hands. Whether he’d actually follow the instructions dutifully was a bit of a mystery, but knowing the person I was trying to contact, it shouldn’t have been too difficult.

The second step of my four-part, semi-foolproof plan, I realized as I sighed and braced myself, was about to begin, with the man in question having just entered the building.

“Mind tellin’ me why the fuck you dragged me back here?” questioned Troy with contempt. My blood still boiled whenever I had the displeasure of talking to him, and it was difficult keeping my intentions a secret, but I told myself that this time, I was going to take matters into my own hands. It was basically all or nothing at this point, with absolutely no going back, but I had to see this through to the end.

The arrangement we struck was ending tonight, whether he liked it or not.

But first…

“Just been thinking a lot, lately. Mostly about you,” I told him, standing up and trying to appear as genuinely interested and not sick to my stomach as possible. “I chatted for a long time with Bonnie last night, and it got me thinking – if tonight really is as dangerous as you say it’s going to be, then I want my last one to be _extra_ special.”

What Bonnie had _actually_ said to me, when I mentioned what I planned to do, was that she was scared of where my mind was going with this idea. She told me to sort things out differently, to find another method of retribution and to just stick to the plan that Luke and the others had laid out for us.

Was it vindictive? Maybe. Was it cruel? Debatable. But was it necessary?

Absolutely fucking yes it was.

“…you’re tryin’ to tell me that you wanna ride the horse _now_ , instead of helpin’ out and doin’ your job?” he insinuated, apparently not quite as in the mood as he was last night. “Stupid goddamn cunt! I’ve got half a mind to send you over to Bill right fucking now!”

“I don’t think you wanna do that, Troy.”

“Oh really? And why’s that?”

Getting closer towards him, I slowly started to undo my jacket zipper and whispered into his ear, “because I’m ready to blow your fucking brains out. And a little bit of action with me might be just the thing to loosen you up for tonight.”

I heard his breath hitch a little despite trying to hide it, and to further coax him into complying with my proposition, I made my way behind him and slowly rubbed one of my hands over his chest, and the other down near his belt.

Never in my life had I been as disgusted with myself as in that moment, but for the ruse to take hold, I had to maintain it for a little while longer.

“I… I shouldn’t…” he tried telling himself, losing the battle quickly when I felt him shudder underneath my touch.

“Why shouldn’t you?” I countered. “You deserve this, Troy… You got me out of that slum, and I figure the least I can do is show a little gratitude.”

Circling back around and biting my lip to try and appear as captivating as possible, I tried to seal the deal by grabbing the front of his camo sweater.

“So what do you say, Troy?” I asked, turning his own words back on him. “You ready to go another round with me?”

Troy stared at me for a handful of moments, and I was worried that he was gonna take off anyways, but luckily this piece of human garbage thought with his groin and not his brain. “…fuck it,” he said with that crazed look in his eyes, pushing me through the partially-opened door and placing his pistol on top of my dresser to the side of the room. I tried to sound like I was enjoying the experience as much as possible, breathing a little heavier than before and lowering my coat zipper the rest of the way to really sell it.

He figured that it would simply go the way that these romps normally would and made a move to shove me onto the mattress, but I caught his hands quickly enough and shook my head.

“Not this time, handsome,” I said, nearly gagging with how I was acting. “I’ve got a new magic trick up my sleeve for you. Think you can be my assistant?”

“’Bout time you took over for once,” he remarked with a smirk. “I was getting’ kinda bored havin’ to tell you what to do all the time.”

“Oh trust me, this will be anything but boring.”

Ordering him to lay on his back, he dutifully complied and waited with boyish excitement as to what kind of magical new idea I’d come up with to spruce up his usual sexual assaults with.

“Hmm… this won’t do. Think I’m gonna need my assistant to take his pants off real quick,” I told him, waiting for him to do the deed before sliding one of my hands along his thigh. Lowering my eyelids, I mentally prepared myself as step three began. “That’s it. Now, lean your head back, Troy.”

Doing as I instructed, I casually flipped open a side pocket on my leg when he couldn’t see what I was doing.

If this didn’t go exactly how I wanted it to, I knew that I was fucked. Beyond fucked. But so far, the walking shit-stain had played right into my hands.

“Ready? Here it comes,” I whispered in a sultry voice. “I’m gonna rock your fucking world.”

Troy, practically bursting in anticipation, had a gigantic grin that went from ear to ear.

…

_FFFWWWWOOOMMMPP!_

He wasn’t smiling quite as much when I plunged my knife straight into his motherfucking dick.

Instantly putting my other hand over his mouth to stifle the agonized screams he released, I jumped onto him with my knees and plunged the weapon further, making sure he felt every inch of the metallic blade. “How does that fucking feel, huh?!” I bellowed at him, twisting the knife right and left as he buckled in pain underneath my weight. I kept it going for a few more twists and turns, more so as some distorted version of personal justice, before I finally slapped him hard across the face and forced his tear-soaked, bloodshot eyes to look straight at me.

“You fucked with the wrong girl here, Troy,” I swore at him venomously. I was pretty sure that I’d since used the word “fuck” so liberally by that point that it’d pretty much lost its meaning in my head. “I’m pretty sure you know what I want here. After all, you took me away from her the first night you forced yourself onto me.”

If he hadn’t been under such physical distress, he probably would’ve tried to tell me no, but I was making sure that he was hearing every single thing I had to tell him. He had nowhere else to go.

Once I realized that he couldn’t really make a move to fight back with me straddling him like this, I loosened my grip a tiny bit and tilted my head to the side. “You still there? I sure hope so, because I haven’t even gotten to my request yet,” I asked, gazing upon the heavy beads of sweat dripping down his face and wondering just how long he could keep this up for. “So, here’s what we’re gonna do,” I cleared my throat. “You,” I pointed to him, unsheathing the now blood-soaked knife as he groaned underneath my hand, “are going to take me straight to Clementine. Not just to the building she’s in or the general vicinity. I want to literally be brushing shoulders with the kid by the time we arrive.”

Troy definitely was going to try and tell me to fuck off, but whimpered when I pressed my knee straight into his wound.

“Don’t interrupt, and pay attention,” I told him, nicking the side of his cheek with the knife and watching a small trail of blood trickle down his face. “Carver’s gonna be starting his dick-measuring contest with those cultists pretty soon, so we’re going to do this nice and quietly. No detours, no distractions.”

“G-go _dddd_ …” he cried when I finally did let him speak. He wasn’t really capable of forming coherent sentences at the moment, which was perfectly fine by me. Figuring that when I turned around he might’ve just tried to sprint for the exit, I slowly stood up, making sure to press my boot onto him once more to keep him glued to the mattress. Facing him the entire time, I held my knife threateningly out in front of me before closing the door.

Then I backed up into the dresser, grabbed his pistol, and motioned with it for him to get dressed.

“That girl better be alive down there, or you’re not going to enjoy what comes next,” I warned. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t try calling to any of your so-called “friends” for help this time. Not that it’d do you much good, seeing’s how there’s not a single person living at NCS who doesn’t know you’re a creepy, degenerate piece of shit you are.”

“…c-crazy… bitch…”

Making a point of letting him see me taking the safety off his gun, I motioned for Troy to get moving. He was definitely thinking about trying to rush me, but one step forward quickly erased any idea of resisting. I’d never felt this level of power and control over another human being before, and while so far I couldn’t deny that it was getting results, there was still a traitorous part of my brain screaming at me about how inhumanely I was treating this bastard. It felt wrong on so many levels, and a part of me was worried about taking this any farther than it had to, but I had to keep telling myself that this was ultimately for a good cause.

So, swallowing my pride and maintaining my captivity, I carefully put my knife back, slid my bag over my shoulders and pressed the barrel of the pistol into Troy’s hunched back.

“How’s about I throw in a little incentive here, Troy?” I threatened as we made our way out at a snail’s pace. “If you utter a sound, if you even make a peep of what we’re doing to anybody? I will personally chop your balls off and feed them to you. I’ll make getting eaten alive by walkers seem like a holiday for your stupid ass. You feel me?”

“…you’re… l-lying…”

Cocking the slot of the pistol back and jamming it right against the back of his skull, I growled at him. “Listen up. There isn’t one inch of you that I don’t hate, and I don’t think anybody around here would shed a tear if I lodged one of your own bullets right into that mush you call a brain,” I warned, firing off a round into one of the hallway picture frames close to his face to prove I was serious. The noise would’ve been an issue if anybody was around, but nobody came running, and frankly I was too pissed off to care. “So, if you want to get out all of this alive, I suggest you do what I say. Or did you want me to pull out the knife again?”

He flinched at that, and aside from whining a bit with blood dripping down his pant leg, he shook his head and kept walking towards the door.

“Glad we understand each other,” I said, shaking myself a bit when I realized just how much of Carver I’d just channeled in the span of ten minutes. Maybe Bonnie did have a point about this after all, and that I was swaying dangerously close to a point where I’d never be able to come back from.

I firmly believed that Troy had every single minute of this coming to him, and a putting this unrelenting fear inside of the man to dissuade him from doing this again was justified in my eyes. But the fact of the matter was, no matter how necessary this was for those reasons and also to ensure Clementine’s survival, I still hated torturing and manipulating another human being like this.

So far, my personal vendetta against the guy hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as I thought it would.

“Move,” I commanded, pushing those thoughts aside for the time being and shoving him out into the street.

 

* * *

The night was deathly quiet. Even the harmonized chirps of the crickets and cicadas, those I’d become accustomed to hearing down here in North Carolina even during these colder months, had simmered down as though they knew something big was going to happen. Aside from the frantic footsteps of guards, workers and whoever else may’ve still been alive at this once-abandoned university, there was nothing ringing in my ears but the pump of my own heartbeat and the faltering steps of Troy in front of me.

I’d resorted to keeping the gun hidden inside of my sleeve in case anybody happened to be walking past us, but thankfully it was still dark enough outside that nobody really either paid attention or cared enough to wonder why I was walking so closely behind him. We’d been wandering around for fifteen minutes now, partially because of Troy’s wound, and I was starting to lose my patience.

“You better be straight up with me,” I reminded him with a quick shove in his back. He hadn’t really been saying anything this whole time, and while I knew the campus well enough by now to see that he wasn’t just leading me back towards Carver at the atrium, I wasn’t familiar enough to know the entire layout by heart.

When he finally did start to slow down again, about ten or so minutes later, I was greeted with a smaller building that didn’t look like it’d been occupied in decades. Most of the windows were smashed to bits, the various electronic equipment that used to remain here had either been taken or left to gather dust, and nothing aside from a faded sign out front labelled “Toxicology Lab” remained to indicate what this place was once used for.

Trying to see past the man while also keeping him within my restraint, I frowned deeply and shoved Troy again. “So did you move her somewhere in here? Is Clementine inside this place?” I demanded, waiting for a response that I never received. “Hey, asshole! Are you listening?!” I snapped with a quick smack over Troy’s head with the pistol. “I’m not going to ask you again. Where. Is. The girl?”

Troy was still clearly in pain and had been for the entire trip over here, but he could control it enough by now to motion towards the door. “Ain’t too much further, now,” he wheezed. “Go on in. What you’re lookin’ for’s just inside.”

“Please,” I insisted with the gun, “after you.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Troy obeyed and hobbled up the front steps, dripping blood onto the pale cement and leaning against the railing. The guy was losing too much too quickly, and if the paleness of his complexion was any indication, he wasn’t going to make it without medical attention. Must’ve hit an artery or something down there.

“Got a light?” he asked me, grunting when I told him I didn’t. “Ain’t gonna do ya much good to be stumblin’ in the dark, Jane.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” I told him, leaving no room to argue with me.

He did have a point about not being able to see anything, though. The place was practically pitch-black, and if it weren’t for Troy being able to feel his way through the inky darkness, I’d have had to turn back and result to some more… unfortunate ways of tracking the girl down.

It was impossible to notice anything particular about your surroundings until you were literally brushing up against them, and more than once did I bump into some dirt-covered desk, oversized printer or all manner of electronic made useless even with Bill having turned the electricity on. Our footsteps echoed in every direction, being the only constant companion guiding me forwards and keeping me somewhat centred. Troy had started to descend a small flight of stairs that wrapped around a couple of floors below ground level, which I guessed would’ve meant that so far, he was keeping to his word.

“Y-y’know? I’ve… I’ve been thinkin’,” Troy decided to cut through the stillness.

“Oh yeah? How about you don’t instead?”

We came out to a wide-open area, similar to the parking garage in size and shape, but, with a little illumination from the moon, revealed that it wasn’t even close to that. Bodies, long-since deceased judging from the amount of decay they exhibited, were strung up together and tied to concrete pillars, many of which had their heads cleaved cleanly off. I could hear the flies buzzing around the decaying carcasses, and gazed upon in horror at even more bodies skewered onto what had to be almost a hundred pikes lined up down in some kind of bizarre maze of death. Glancing up as Troy listlessly carried on forward, I was shaken to see the lifeless faces of those same men and women, with their heads gingerly placed side by side, staring directly at me as I passed by.

This couldn’t have been Carver. There was only one person I knew that was sadistic enough to think that a display like this was acceptable. What I couldn’t understand is why Bill would’ve moved Clementine into a place like this when he had to have figured who this area actually belonged to.

Troy coughed and groaned before trying to lean onto one of the wooden barricades but, probably thinking better of it, hunched over to place his hands on his knees instead.

“Did I tell you to stop?” I tried to sound threatening, but there was no mistaking the tremble in my voice at where we were heading towards. This had to have been one of the many passages that the Disciples used to get around the campus and spy on the residents for so long, which meant that, eventually, Troy would be leading me right back into their territory. “Alright, cut the shit, Troy. Where did you fucking take her? Where is she?!”

Shaking his head, Troy sat down and leaned against one of the wooden barricades that wasn’t completely covered in dead crap. “…been thinkin’ ‘bout it long n’ hard,” he hacked, unflinching even when I unsheathed my knife. The man looked like he was too drained to really care anymore. “You… you need me alive to… _cough-cough!_... to take you to your little friend,” he croaked. “But the way I see it… I’m a dead man either way. Without that doc o’ yours to fix me up… I’m as good… _cough-cough-blech!_... as fucked.”

Slowly lowering the gun, I felt my breathing become labored with each word he spoke. The guy was right on the money, and without a guide to escort me through this hellhole, I was just as screwed as he was.

I hadn’t placed Troy dying before we even arrived into the equation when making my ultimate plan.

Noting that I wasn’t saying anything to him yet, Troy shrugged his shoulders and continued. “Figure… if I’m gonna die anyway… why waste the time that I’ve got left… helpin’ some bitch like you?”

“…so that’s it then? You wanted me to take you down here just so I could kill you?”

“It ain’t like I got anythin’ back up top… that this fuckin’ world ain’t already taken from me…”

The thought definitely crossed my mind. Standing in that dank, underground warren, I wanted nothing more than to hurt him in a million different ways for basically extinguishing one of my last plays to get back to Clementine. I wanted to make it slow and painful for him, to make him regret ever screwing me over like this and to inflict as much damage to his psyche as I possibly could.

But this had gone far enough already. I was _exhausted._ I didn’t want to keep dicking around in NCS, and at this rate, getting back to that kid was going to nearly be suicidal. The only other hope that I had was that this path would somehow magically lead me straight to Clem, and if it didn’t? Well… I’d probably either be killed or have to try and escape back out into Raleigh.

“Close your eyes and I’ll make it quick,” I told him, fully prepared to just shoot him in the head and be on my way. He gulped before holding his hand up, shaking his head for a second. “ _Ugh_ … what now?”

“…what time is it?”

Confusion quickly took hold. “I don’t have any fucking idea. What difference does that make?”

Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders and leaned his head back and did as I instructed, making himself a little more comfortable in the process. “Doesn’t really, I guess… We’re both gonna be screwed, regardless…”

I had my finger about an inch away from pulling the trigger, and I was about to end this sorry excuse of a life, but stopped myself right before I could finish him off. “What do you mean we’re scr – “

_BBBZZZZZZTTTT!!!!_

One by one, the lights started to turn on downstairs, and I had to shield my eyes from the intense shift from darkness; waiting for my vision to adjust to everything. The sound of several heavy, metal shutters closing could be heard echoing throughout the underground level, and I turned towards the sound with a feeling of dread taking hold.

“He… he didn’t…”

“Guess Bill finally got it all up n’ runnin’…” Troy coughed again. “You know what the best way to deal… with weeds is, Jane?” he asked me, but I was already sprinting back towards the way we came in. “Cut ‘em off… at the roots…”

No… No, no, no, no, no, no, fucking NO!

Running for dear life as if that would be any help to me at all by now, I gritted my teeth and kicked one of the rotting heads straight into the now-closed security gate; hearing it smash against the thin metal and rattle the rest of the section. There was a red dot flashing on the side panel to indicate it was indeed locked, and as I ran towards the object which had now become my prison, I knew that I was completely out of options.

Carver had, in an effort to stop the cultists from leaving, locked the entire school down. And from here, there wasn’t a damn thing that I could do about it. It wasn’t like I knew anything about reprogramming a security conduit.

“FUCK!” I bellowed, slamming a fist into the gate and screwing my eyes shut. I didn’t want to die this way. I didn’t want to end my life trapped like a caged animal, begging for scraps. But that’s exactly what was going to end happening, whether it was tonight or sometime in the very near future. I was going to be trapped in a war between two factions which I hated equally, and now with the boundaries set in place, I’d be forced to either participate in this boxing match, or become a spectator and wait to be killed on the sidelines.

Clem was going to be completely out of my reach at this point. There was no other way around it. She was gone. If the girl was lucky enough, somebody would just put her out of her misery so that she didn’t have to suffer in whatever deathtrap of the day she’d been stuffed into.

NCS was literally hell on Earth. And there was absolutely no getting out.

…but I couldn’t give in. Not yet. I was still alive, and if I truly didn’t want to kick the bucket so soon, then I still had to try and go ahead with the original plan. There was still one last avenue that I hadn’t attempted up to now. Nowhere else to go but forward at this point.

I still had to kill Troy, though. The thought of taking another human life was still a terrifying concept, but I knew that he was in no shape to keep moving, and even if by some miracle he was able to get up, I couldn’t have him running back to Bill.

There was no other choice to be made. That asshole had to die.

Picking myself up and moving at a jogging pace, I rounded the same corners of the body maze until I made my way back to the guy. Troy could barely keep his eyes open, and he didn’t look like he could even move his arms around at this point, but what confused me was why he was looking in the opposite direction of me.

Turning to see what it was he was staring at, I squinted into the distance and saw several of the lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling burst into sparks. I didn’t know if they’d been shot at or what, but the impact was definitely intentional, and I held my weapons in front of me in a ready position all the same.

“Told more of Carver’s goons about me, did you?” I asked Troy, seeing a large group of silhouettes slowly approaching from the shadows, but still unable to make out who or what they were.

Troy, with what little energy he had left, tried to push himself away. “They ain’t… with me…” he wheezed, crying out when a large boot suddenly stomped on his leg and kept him from going any further.

Breathing deeply, I tried to keep my composure when the first bald-headed cultist made his way into the light.

“Thought you guys had a meeting to go to?” I asked, making sure to keep my aim pointed right at the dude’s forehead. The man clearly wasn’t fazed, maintaining a look of absolute composure. He walked forward as if Troy was just a bug to be squashed beneath his heel, and I shook my head when four more of them emerged in much the same way. “Don’t! Don’t come any closer!” I warned, backing up slowly and nearly tripping over a decapitated corpse. “I don’t want any trouble, okay? Just… just let me go.”

Five more after that slowly marched their way behind, and then even more started to appear on top of their barricades to the right and left of me. I couldn’t spot Andre among the growing crowd, which meant that my only informant within the group had either disappeared or been killed. There weren’t enough bullets in Troy’s pistol to take them all out, even if I landed a headshot each time, and I was beginning to panic.

No matter what I did now, I was trapped.

“Shit…” I cursed under my breath. They looked like a swarm of aliens descending upon me, inching closer and getting ready to indoctrinate their latest victim into their fabricated religious doctrine. “Look, I’m not your enemy here! I’ll give you whatever you want from me, I swear! Just let me get back to the girl… back to Clementine…”

The whistles started up again, high and low, to signal what I could only presume was to be my untimely death. The sound was almost outer-worldly in a way, and as the melodic tune wormed its way to and fro through my ear drums, I felt my resolve crumble into pieces. Fucking hell, I couldn’t do this… Anxiety was permeating at my senses, and with the Disciples closing in around me, I gasped for air and felt the gun drop from my grip of my own accord. There was no getting out of this now.

Closing my eyes, I felt the sting of tears start to pool as I angrily tried to wipe them away, knowing that this was it. I could only hope they’d make my last moments somewhat painless.

“…brothers and sisters, rejoice! I believe we have just been blessed with another soul prepared to join our mortal fold.”

He appeared like an apparition, smiling at me as though he was visiting an old friend and waltzing towards my trembling figure while his followers spread out in single-file lines to let him pass. Reginald stopped just a couple feet away from me, placed a hand upon my shoulder and tilted my chin up.

I let him do it. My will to fight back was zapped right then.

“I could see a fire burning in your heart the second you beheld our refuge, Jane. You were intrigued. Mystified, perhaps, but captivated, nonetheless. Admirable qualities, to be sure,” he noted, placing his hands back to his sides and nodding. “You, my child, are on the precipice of a higher understanding of which many have only dreamed about. There’s an untapped potential here waiting to flourish, and I believe that you may be the key to one of our fiercest tests yet.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, having half a mind to berate him over the magnitude of his crimes against nature and humanity with just this downstairs area alone. Figuring that it wouldn’t do me any good here, though, I refrained.

Heartily chuckling at that, Reginald pointed up towards the ceiling as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You didn’t really think we were ignorant of your leader’s attempts at deception, did you? We’ve been lied to before, after all. We’ve been tempted by humanity’s greed, by their endeavors to sway us from the path and lead us astray… but we’ve always held fast,” he explained, getting a chorus of nods from his supporters. Troy was hidden in behind all of them, so I wasn’t able to see if they’d done anything else to the man, but with how much of a lockdown Reginald had over the cultists, I’d have doubted anything would happen out of turn.

“Now… I cannot help but notice the precarious situation that you have placed yourself in down here, running around our offering grounds and making enough noise to make our cadaverous brethren act accordingly,” he elaborated, making my eyes widen as he smiled a toothy grin. “Oh yes, Jane. You’re closer to your own personal goal than you may realize. The Pit awaits, and we have been awaiting an opportunity of this calibre for some time.”

“Is… is she alive?” I stuttered, not needing to explain who it is I was talking about since the guy seemed to know almost everything about the underbelly of this school.

“We have not placed harm upon the child. As I explained to you previously, we have been merely observing up to this point,” he reassured me. “Thus far, she has exceeded all expectations marvellously. She has shown great resilience to the abhorrent conditions her captor had placed her in, but the time has finally come for us to set things right.”

“You mean…?”

“Your young charge is within our care, yes. And she, like you, shall soon join our flock.”

Equal parts relief and fear enveloped me at his news. While it was great to finally have some kind of confirmation that she was still alive, the fact of the matter was that she was essentially being held hostage by a group of psychotic walker-lovers. And “joining the flock”? Fuck that! Clementine had already been branded and forced to comply with one deranged dickwad, and she certainly didn’t need to be thrown into this shit!

The conflict must’ve shown on my face, because the next thing I knew, I felt somebody from behind wrapping a rope behind my neck and bringing me to my knees. I could barely breathe and was forced to stare up at Reginald as he bent down to my level and patted my arm.

“I’m afraid I must keep our encounter brief, for we have a date with destiny tonight. You know how it is,” he explained, digging his hand into the stomach of a recently-killed human to the left of him and rubbing the darkened blood onto my forehead. “Jane… do you accept the gift of enlightenment? Will you travel alongside us, and help to bring about a greater co-existence between the dead and the living?”

Knowing that compliance was now the only way that I could possibly get myself out of this mess, I nodded. “…just… give me… back… the kid…” I struggled to beg, and saw him grin one last time before once again painting the disgusting liquid onto my face. I was no stranger to using walker guts, but being used as a canvas for a guy’s corpse-lined arts and crafts session was where I drew the line.

“You have set yourself along the path, my child,” he finished, standing me up and whistling for my captor to loosen the noose around my neck. Gasping for air, I felt my arms being held back and bound by the same rope he or she had settled on before, while my bag was torn from my shoulders. “Your trial shall begin before too long, so you had best prepare yourself. We shall see if you possess as much fortitude as the young one. Oh, and I wouldn’t worry about the rest of your friends, my dear,” he announced as we marched forward, revealing the tied-up figures of Alvin and Nick, both hunched forward in a similar manner that I was. “They’re coming, too.”

Barely any time at all had passed to register that Alvin and Nick were both unconscious, likely having been beaten into submission or kidnapped, when I noticed that Roseanne girl from yesterday digging through the contents of my backpack. My breath hitched when she unzipped it, revealing the medical contents inside and showing them to her leader.

Reginald, digging his hands through the various supplies, slowly looked up at me with an unreadable expression. “Personal desires and greed are not tolerated within our walls, Jane. Pilfering valuable assets shall place the entire congregation at risk. You know this.”

“I… I didn’t kn – “

“Yet, you’ve put this entire situation into a bit of a conundrum, for we required these supplies from the very beginning,” he interrupted, rubbing a hand through his wavy, brown hair before placing his hands on his hips. “We should be grateful to you for acquiring what was rightfully ours to start with, but this behaviour of yours? We cannot accept this, if you are to become a Disciple. Perhaps the re-education will set you straight in time, but I cannot help but feel… disappointed.”

The big man who’d been stepping on Troy was still guarding him when we passed by, and Reginald, spotting the man laying on the ground, shook his head and bent down to one knee. “Do you seek enlightenment, my son?” he asked, only to be met with a slob of bloodied saliva in the face. Quickly wiping his cheek, the madman sighed and motioned towards his follower. “Convert him, Jonathan. May he find peace in the gloom.”

I heard Troy struggle for only a few seconds, listened to one final agonized scream before the man sliced his neck open and left him to choke on his own blood – another walker to be added to the Disciples’ collection.

“ _Sigh_ … I told William to leave the lights off. Electricity bills are high this time of year,” Reginald remarked, almost as if he hadn’t just ordered somebody to kill another person at all. “Time to go wake up the neighbourhood.”


End file.
